


Sunlight on Still Waters

by cobaltmoony, sparkly_butthole



Series: Sunlight on Still Waters [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Accidental exploration of social issues, Alternate Universe- BDSM, Anal Sex, Bondage, Brief mentions of tentacle Steve, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky learns to use his words, Captain America Steve Rogers, Cock sleeve, Cockwarming, Coming Untouched, Crossdressing, Dom Steve Rogers, Dub con elements due to nature of bdsm dystopia, Dystopian Elements, Enemas, Fake Ronald Reagan sucks, Figging, Forced Eye Contact, Impact Play, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Natasha Is a Good Bro, Nonconsensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Praise Kink, Rimming, Service Kink, Shower Sex, Shrunkyclunks, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Steve Rogers is a gentle soul, Sub Bucky Barnes, Subdrop, Tbh real one does too, Teasing, Temperature Play, Whole Foods is ridiculous, breath play, dubious consent chapters will have warnings, enthusiastic consent between Steve and Bucky always, handjobs, lovemaking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-03-16 06:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 78,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13630122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltmoony/pseuds/cobaltmoony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkly_butthole/pseuds/sparkly_butthole
Summary: Steve Rogers lives in a broken-down building in Brooklyn, shops at Whole Foods, and plays Captain America as necessary, adjusting to the twenty-first century as well as can be expected. He’s not looking for a sub, not actively, but when he stumbles - literally - upon his neighbor Bucky Barnes, that old spark lights up once more.But things have changed since Steve went into the ice. Society’s gone forwards in many ways, but not all, not by a longshot. And soon enough, he’ll have to play a hero of a different kind.Written for the 2017/2018 Shrunkyclunks Big Bang!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I need to take a moment to thank a lot of people for helping make this happen. Bucky;s thicc thighs, my lovely artist moony, the Glow Cloud, my bab, and all those who followed me into this fandom despite not being that interested - you are all amazing. Thank you for being with me every step of the way.
> 
> This fic wouldn't be possible without my tireless alpha reader, [Arke](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Arke/pseuds/Arke) and my wonderful beta reader, [NurseDarry](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Arke/pseuds/NurseDarry). Love you guys!

The stairs of Steve’s building are rickety, practically squealing like pigs whenever someone steps on them. Steve sighs, hauling the grocery bags up to his fourth floor apartment, praying to God the stairs hold his weight. It’s probably dramatic to worry over it, but he’s kinda starting to see why Stark keeps asking him to move to the Tower.  _ Your own floor! Modern amenities! The works! Actually not a shithole! _ But Brooklyn is home, even now, and Steve doesn’t want to leave it. Besides, the building smells nice. Lived in. Comforting. Like his ma’s did all those years ago. Not clinical, stainless steel like practically everything at the Tower.

Of course he’s off in his own little world when the new tenant from the third floor rounds the corner and nearly bowls him over. It takes his exceptional super soldier balance to stay upright.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry! I’m so damn clumsy, Jesus, let me help you… oh my god. You’re Captain America. Shit! I just literally ran into Captain America.”

Steve snorts. “Son, calm down. It’s not a big deal, really.”

“I could’ve knocked you down a flight of stairs!”

“Yep. And I would’ve survived it just fine. Might not’ve even hurt me.”

The guy purses his lips in thought. Plush, red lips that make Steve’s heart rate rise unexpectedly. In fact, the entire package is quite impressive. He’s an inch or two shorter than Steve, at least from what Steve can tell from two steps below him, and he’s slender, but with solid muscle underneath his too-tight shirt. Skinny jeans accent his slim hips perfectly, and suddenly Steve wants nothing more than to suck marks into those hips. He feels the blush rise to his face - Lord, could he be more obvious? 

Yep, the guy’s staring at him strangely. Great.

“Listen, I uh, I don’t get much company. Would you like to come up, maybe have dinner with me?”

“What, the Avengers don’t like to visit?”

“Actually… they hate this place.” Steve gives a self-deprecating chuckle. “I’m here because I love Brooklyn. Feels like home, you know? But one of these days I’ll have to give in and move to the Tower. If for no other reason than the ability to assemble quickly.”

“Damn. That’d be a shame.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. 

“Oh, uh, I mean… yeah. There’s no way to come back from that, is there.”

Steve laughs, and it’s the real deal, an uncomplicated thing he rarely gets to feel these days. “No worries. Come on up.”

“Sure.”

His new friend helps take the groceries up the last two flights, even though Steve doesn’t technically need the help. He discovers quickly that he likes to see the man’s muscles move underneath his shirt. And here Steve gets shit for wearing tee shirts that are three sizes too small. 

_ A man after my own heart. _

He shouldn’t think like that. He just met the guy; hell, he doesn’t even know his name! And then,  _ then _ comes the uncomfortable question - does he himself wear tiny shirts to get sexual attention? Maybe some sense of inadequacy left over from when he was small?

_ Fucking hell, Steve. Get it together. _

He lets them into the apartment, standing just a bit too close to his neighbor as he unlocks the door, not that his neighbor seems to mind. Once the bags are on the counter, he waves to the barstools with a  _ make yourself at home _ gesture. 

“So, what kind of food do you like? I’ve got all kinds of stuff here. Cooking is pretty relaxing for me, and I’ve had a lot of practice. But still, hope I don’t disappoint. There’s, let’s see… Thai food, stir fry, burgers, lasagna…” he trails off, suddenly aware that he’s been rambling.

“Uh, burgers would be fine? I don’t want to cause trouble.”

“Oh no, it’s no trouble,” Steve replies a little too quickly.

“You hardly know me.”

“That’s true.”

“You don’t even know my name.” The little shit is grinning.

“I, uh. I don’t, no.”

“You gonna put those groceries away or what.”

Now Steve’s blushing - great. “Yeah.”

“Are you always this adorable?”

He laughs. “Um. Not quite, I guess?” 

“Yeah, guess your Captain America face is pretty stern. ‘We must fight injustice,’ all serious-like.” 

It’s not quite what Steve meant, but he’s not about to correct the guy, especially when his eyes get all dreamy when he talks about Steve’s commanding side. Maybe… maybe he’s a sub, but this ain’t the time to think about that. 

_ Goddammit, Steve. Just make dinner. _

“Okay, well, burgers coming right up.”

Dinner is good. He learns a lot about his new friend. His name is James Barnes - Bucky for short - and he has a black belt in judo. He likes to cook, too, though he claims that Steve is far better at it than he is. (‘Flattery will get you everywhere, you know,’ Steve had replied, and got half hard at Bucky’s blush.) Bucky paints, which delights Steve. And he crochets. The guy is a treat.

When Bucky leaves, Steve puts his hand over his heart and leans against the door. He keeps telling himself it’s a bad idea, all of it’s just one phenomenally bad fucking idea, but can’t come up with a good reason  _ why _ that’s the case. Nat keeps trying to set him up, and he always declines, but the thing is  - hell, the thing is, he’s been out of the ice for two years now and hasn’t had a sub since 1943. She’s right, he knows she is, it’s just that -

Suddenly, the door opens and Steve falls out into the hallway, nearly knocking Bucky over. But Bucky catches him and helps him upright, trying not to laugh. 

“Uh, hi again? Just thought I’d give you my number. I know I live a floor down and all, but you know. Just in case you need something?” Bucky trails off, realizing there’s no  _ actual _ reason to give Steve his number.

_ Least I’m not the only awkward one here. _

Now there’s two beet-red idiots in the hall. “Uh, yeah. Here, put it in my phone. And sorry for falling on you.”

“No problem.” Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry for nearly knocking you down the stairs.”

“No problem,” Steve parrots. “At least it led me to you.”

_ Jesus. _

“Uh, yeah, so... I’ll go now.”

“Yeah. See you around?” 

“I hope.”

He closes the door again, wearing a dopey, if somewhat embarrassed, smile. He just hopes Bucky’s doing the same.

 

*******

 

Steve’s starting dinner the following night when there’s a knock on the door. It’s a pleasant surprise to see Bucky again, but he can tell something is wrong the instant he opens the door. 

“Hey, what’s wrong? Come in.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. You’re always welcome here.”

Late afternoon light slants through the window, highlighting the fading tear streaks on Bucky’s cheeks. His hair’s a mess. He puts his face down on his arms at the breakfast bar, and Steve can’t help but think Bucky’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even like this.  _ Especially _ like this, and what the hell is that about?

_ He looks all fucked-out, that’s what that’s about, _ says his mind, unhelpfully.

“So, you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“I… I guess. I mean, I came here, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

“Well, I turn twenty-five next week.”

It takes Steve a moment to realize what that has to do with anything. “Yeah? … Oh. Your assessment?”

His stomach growls then. He hopes he’s got enough for a super soldier plus one. Though from the sound of it, Bucky might not be in the mood to eat much.

“Yeah,” Bucky sighs. “Listen, can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course you can.”

“I’m terrible company and I need to calm down a little.”

“Okay. You gonna tell me what this has to do with your assessment?”

“I’ve just… got a bad feeling about this.”

“Why are you so nervous about it?”

But Bucky doesn’t answer. He just slinks off to the bathroom. 

Steve turns back to his stir fry, brow furrowed in concern. He cooks in silence, wracking his brain for some explanation. Sure, a classification delineates a person’s rights and responsibilities to some extent. But those things don’t typically interfere with people’s personal lives. Even back when Steve was young, everybody knew to treat both doms and subs with respect. Sure, a long time ago, ‘submissive’ really meant ‘slave,’ but that’s been several centuries now. Submissives had fought for their rights in the mid-1800s, and for the most part, they’d won. People still made assumptions about a submissive’s intelligence and ability, sure, but that kind of prejudice was going by the wayside as people were realizing how competent submissives actually were, especially during the War. As far as he can tell, no ground has been lost there. So he’s just not sure what could cause this much stress.

When Bucky comes out, he looks much more presentable. Steve wordlessly serves him  some food, figuring it best to wait for Bucky to explain what’s going on. They eat in a somewhat tense silence. Steve gets the feeling Bucky’s been freaking out for awhile, all day maybe, and only came here because he couldn’t calm down. It’s now Steve’s mission to  _ help _ him calm down, because he already cares for the kid. 

_ Kid? He’s two years younger than you… biologically speaking. _

Bucky puts down his fork and stares morosely at the empty plate in front of him. Steve takes it upon himself to speak.

“So. I take it you got your notice then?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“Two weeks.”

“Alright. So I might have missed something here, but I’m not sure what it is that could make you act this way. I mean, things will change for you a little, but it shouldn’t affect your life that much. Just who you can legally date, how you act in public, but even that isn’t in any major way. And there are protections in place for your job, and to make sure no one can do anything to you because of your status. Right? I hope that hasn’t changed, at least. I think I’d know if it had.”

“Yeah, uh, you might’ve missed a couple things when you were an icicle.”

Steve’s heart rate shoots up. A sense of foreboding settles deep into the pit of his stomach. “Oh?”

“Yeah. You remember how ‘submissives’ were, back before the 1860s?”

Shit. “I do, unfortunately.”

“Well, Cap, you ain’t gonna like this.”

“No, I get the feeling I’m not.”

“You see, back in the ‘80s, the Reagan administration used some phony-ass psychology bullshit to add a third category.”

“There’s no way there are slaves again. I’d have heard about it. I’d have  _ seen _ it.” He crosses his arms in an unconscious defensive gesture.

“It’s a rare classification they call ‘beta submissives.’ Basically second-class citizens. Not quite slaves, but… Well, there’s a reason you haven’t seen or heard of them. Besides being rare. They’re kind of like… dirty little secrets.” Bucky’s face is sour, and it hurts Steve to see it.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. How… why…” He groans and looks despondently at the ceiling. Then another horrified thought possesses him. “And you think you’ll be one.”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, like I said, it’s rare. Really rare. Less than one in five hundred are classified ‘beta,’ which is a little less than one in one hundred non-traditionals.”

“Okay. So what makes you think they’ll classify you as one?”

Bucky stares at his plate some more, unable to meet Steve’s eyes. Every bit of visible skin is flushed. Steve’s not sure if it’s from shame or something else. “I like to serve, Steve. A lot.” He finally looks up and meets Steve’s gaze, though it obviously takes a good bit of effort. “I work as a butler for a really rich fuck. His wife sometimes…”

“Sometimes what, Buck?” Steve asks softly when it becomes clear Bucky won’t continue the sentence.

“She’ll… She’ll use me. I don’t want it, but… I love it. I get off on it. Hard.”

There’s definitely shame written all over Bucky’s face now. “There’s nothing wrong with that, Bucky. Well, there’s a lot wrong with her taking advantage of you - and I’m of the mind to turn her in for that - but nothing about your reaction is bad. It’s just how some people are built.”

“I… guess. I mean, we learned that in school, sure. Doesn’t make it any easier, though. Not when your mind is saying something different than what your body is, you know? And if I… if I get classified as a beta, I won’t have much say in any of it anymore.”

Steve gets off his own barstool and comes around the table to him, trying to rein in his own disgust at the situation. And his curiosity. Poor Bucky is near tears again and needs his full attention. Steve takes a chance and reaches out, grateful when Bucky takes his hand and lets Steve pull him into a big hug.

“Hey,” he whispers. “Let’s not count our chickens before they hatch, huh? We don’t know what’ll happen. Even if you think it  _ will _ happen, surely there’s some way to fake it, right?” He pulls back from Bucky reluctantly and lifts his chin to meet his eyes. It’s so much like something he’d do with his own sub, it makes him shiver.

“They’ll know if you fake it. It’s Stark tech.”

Steve’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. “Stark is in on this shit?”

“Uh, yeah. Steve, this is normal now. Glad to know you were in the dark though. I gotta say, I was nervous coming here. Thought maybe with old fashioned values you might believe in this.”

“You kidding? I’m horrified at this. It’s the worst case of human rights abuse I’ve seen in a long time. And what might happen, what probably will happen eventually… I mean, we’re not that far removed from it, and I… just... I’d have never guessed this could happen in modern times. I mean, it’s no big deal if men are together now, not that it ever should have been, so how… I just don’t know. Sorry, I know that’s not very eloquent of me.” Steve blushes.

Bucky blushes, too, for some reason, then straightens his back and tries to look put together. “You’re right though. I’ll have to cross that bridge when -  _ if _ \- I come to it.”

Steve stares at him, concerned. “Alright.”

“Thank you for dinner. I should go home and... “

“Sulk?”

Bucky chuckles. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.”

“Well, you’re always welcome up here, like I said before. Especially before… and after.”

“Thank you. I mean it.”

On a whim, he pulls Bucky in and hugs him again. “You’re welcome.”


	2. Chapter 2

  
  


Steve was twenty-four when he went into the ice. Had that happened today, he wouldn’t have had his own classification yet, but back then, people didn’t know as much about human development, specifically that one’s frontal lobe isn’t done maturing until his or her mid-twenties. So Steve wasn’t technically eligible for the reassessment, but they did it anyway, deferring to his special circumstances. Besides, he hit twenty-five shortly thereafter.

Clearly, things were different back then. He’s a little disgusted - well, okay, a lot disgusted - over what he’s heard from Bucky tonight. Forget his own budding feelings for the man. He has no idea what will happen to Bucky if he’s classified as a beta, but Bucky’s clearly terrified, and Steve is terrified for him. It’s probably time to do some research.

Thank goodness for the internet.

 

*******

 

“Nat, I really need your help right now.” 

“Yeah, sure… Steve, are you okay? You sound weird. You’re breathing heavy. Do you need me to come over?”

The concern in Nat’s voice is touching. “No, no… I mean, maybe. Yes.” He groans. “So I met this guy - “

“Ooh, was he a sub?”

“Natasha!”

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just the thought of gramps dating would make everyone at the Tower happy. Keep going, really, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I just… normally, this would be great. He’s smart, handsome, seems to have it together and all that.”

“But?”

“But I guess I missed some things.” His shoulders sag and he sits heavily on the old torn up couch in his living room, watching as the rays of sun that had highlighted Bucky’s beauty so perfectly now fall upon his empty kitchen. “I feel like… just… never mind.”

“I’ll be right over.”

“Nat…”

“No, Steve. You’re not holding it in like you do with everything else. You’ve gotta let other people in from time to time, you know? Trust me, I’m an expert on learning that lesson. I’m coming over, and that’s all there is to it.”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

Natasha does one better than just coming over - she brings takeout. Chinese, Szechuan chicken to be precise, which is one of Steve’s favorite things about the new century. Both takeout in general and the chicken in particular. It’s one of the few luxuries he really allows himself. Nat wishes he’d get out more.

“So,” she starts with a mouthful of noodles, “what’s really goin’ on?”

“Your mouth is full of noodles.”

“Yeah, I’m eating noodles, what’s your point.”

Steve scoffs. “Your mama really teach you to talk with your mouth full?”

“Hardly had a mother, Steve,” she responds drily. “And anyway, you’re stalling.”

He sighs, looking every bit of his ninety years. “You know, I fought really hard for this country. I  _ died _ for this country! And somehow we’ve gone backwards, and I just…” 

Steve gets up and starts pacing, having barely eaten any of his food. Nat rolls her eyes, making a mental note to ensure that Steve eats every bite of it later. Super soldier metabolism and all. Somebody’s gotta watch this damn nutjob.

“This isn’t the country I fought for, Nat.”

“Steve, honey. I still have no idea what you’re on about. You see this face? Does this look like a face that can read your mind?”

The chuckle she is hoping for doesn’t materialize. This must be some serious shit. 

“What can you tell me about betas? And about assessments?”

Her face falls. Right, neither of those were things back when Steve was around. Well, the assessments were, but they were very different than they are now.

“Right. Human rights violations, anyone?” Steve’s so angry he looks like a viper ready to strike.

Now she gets it. “That kid, Bucky? He’s a beta?”

“Not yet. But he’s pretty sure that’s how they’ll classify him.”

Natasha sighs. “Steve, honey. That’s pretty rare. He’ll probably just be a submissive and call it done.”

“But what if they don’t?” Steve’s face is bright red with anger. “They’ll force him to find someone within thirty days. Take away his job. Limit the amount of time he can spend with friends. Then they’ll… test him. Even if he’s a sub, but it’s different for the beta test. Worse. Horrific.” His lips twist into an expression of disgust. “And his new ‘master’ will have to go through it, too.” 

She’s not sure what to say to this - what is there to say? It’s how society is, and has been for as long as she can remember. Most people assume this is how it should be. And honestly, she’s never given it that much thought. Considering where she came from, she doesn’t have much context for such things.

“I’ve never really thought about it much, Steve.”

Steve rounds on her, and without meaning to, she flinches back. She’s never seen that much anger in someone’s eyes. Not even Rogers’, and he is one of the most moody people she’s ever met outside of teenhood. 

“How can you find this okay? What, just because it doesn’t affect you, you think that means you get to let it just happen? And why did nobody ever tell me this had changed?”

“Well… I can’t answer for the others, but I’m pretty sure most of us just accept the way things are. I’ll admit I don’t get it, but that’s ace for you. But we’re kind of taught that beta submissives accept their place; that’s why we do the assessments to begin with. And it’s not like we look down on them for being what they are. That much hasn’t changed.”

Steve sighs again, seeming almost folded in on himself. Just looking at him makes Nat’s stomach ache. “I’m willing to bet that ain’t true. And it doesn’t matter anyway. If Bucky doesn’t want to be a beta, he shouldn’t be classified as a beta. He should be free to make his own choices. You can’t take away someone’s autonomy. Not like that. And the secondary assessments that everyone has to go through now...” He shudders.

She gets up and tentatively puts her arm around Steve’s shoulder. “He still does. He gets to decide who his dom is. And besides that, it hasn’t even happened yet!”

“It’s still wrong, Nat. Why do the Avengers sit by and let this happen?”

“I know you’re really into the whole ‘fighting against injustice’ thing, Steve, but one thing at a time. We can save the world from secret organizations and aliens, or we can fight political battles. There’s only so many of us.”

Steve tenses, but allows her closeness. “He gets thirty days, Nat, and then the state decides for him. Thirty days! To find a relationship with someone willing to take on a beta, which is like… adopting a baby. I don’t know, they have such little autonomy. And I kinda told him the same thing, but now I feel like I’m freaking out as much as Bucky is.” Steve gives her the saddest excuse for a grin he’s ever seen. “Guess I got it bad, huh?”

And that - that’s where she gets the idea. “So, if that happens… why don’t you just become Bucky’s dom?”

Steve gives her an incredulous look. “Are you kidding?”

“Nope, I’m dead serious. Look, you guys already have a rapport, right? He came to you when he got the notice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but…”

“And you like him. A lot.”

“But I can’t just ask someone to be my sub. I’ve gotta, y’know, court him a little bit. Get to know him. I’m not the type to just sleep around or use someone for sex.”

She leads Steve over to the couch and gets up to hand him his food, along with a cold beer from the fridge. It won’t do anything for Steve, but he still seems to enjoy drinking it. “So don’t use him for sex. Be his dom. The real thing. Be who you are and let him be who he is. You can save him from a life of abuse, if that’s what you’re afraid of.”

Steve grimaces at his beer. “Jesus. I want him to be mine, Nat, but not like this. It’s not fair to force our hands like this.”

“Yeah, well. Sometimes the world ain’t always fair. Just gotta do the best you can, Rogers.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Now, isn’t there a Dodgers game on or something?”

“You read my mind.”

 

***

 

Steve tosses his shield at the nearest parapet, which makes it bounce and hit three AIM scientists who have what Natasha likes to joke is ‘one hit point apiece.’ They go down like bowling pins, but the facility still has actual mercenaries and operatives. They’re not out of the woods yet. But Nat giggles at the inside joke anyway.

“What’s so funny, Tasha?” Steve’s voice crackles through the comms.

“I just think your fighting style is ridiculous, Cap. You even look like a comic book character.”

Clint scoffs. “Says the female James Bond.”

“Hey, you just wish you could fly, birdbrain.”

“I can fly! See, flying! Clint, I’ll let you fly with me if you want. For a price, of course.” 

Tony, in true Tony fashion, lands on the roof not far from their position, kicking some sneaking spies to land ten feet away in the process.

“That doesn’t count. You’re cheating.”

“Cheating?  _ Moi _ ?”

“Enough. We’re not finished here, and Bruce is still MIA, possibly smashing the building to bits as we speak. Let’s get down and regroup on the first floor.” Steve uses his Captain’s voice. Not just that, though; it’s his angry Captain’s voice. His  _ you better do what I say _ Captain’s voice.

“Spoilsport,” Tony mutters.

“I’m gonna spoilsport you when I bench you next mission for talking back,” Steve snaps.

Nat gasps softly into the comm, and Clint looks over at Tony. Steve can be a bit of a hardass at times, but he’d never threaten to bench someone over banter. She shakes her head, taking the lead as they follow her down the stairwell, on the lookout for more AIM cannon fodder.

She switches to their private channel. “Steve, what’s going on with you today?”

“It’s nothing, Nat. Let’s just get this mission over with.”

“Uh-uh. If your mood is that far off base, you might be compromised.”

Steve gives a long-suffering sigh. “It’s Bucky’s assessment tomorrow. I want to be home by then. I’m so scared for him, Nat.” 

She listens with awe as Steve slams what is likely a highly-trained operative against the wall of the stairwell. Steve hasn’t even broken a sweat this entire fight. 

_ No, he’s not compromised, that’s for sure. _

“Yeah, I understand, but there’s nothing you can do for him now.”

“No, but I can be there for him when he gets home. And put this rage to good use in the meantime.”

She sighs. “I guess that’s kind of your M.O. anyway, isn’t it?”

“Like Bruce’s little trick?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, just like that.”

As if on cue, she hears the Hulk’s roar emanate from the floor she’s stopped on. Steve switches to the team channel.

“Status update?”

“Yeah, we have a code green, just like you thought, Steve. How quick can you get here?”

“Few floors on top of you, Nat. Is there anyone left?”

“Not that I can tell, no. The Hulk has dispatched whatever remained. I got the data we needed, and that infernal machine has been shut down. Hopefully Stark can figure out what it’s for without Bruce’s help.”

“Well, he’d better hurry. We’re heading home tonight.”

“That’s quick.”

“Don’t care. Can you do the lullaby now?” Steve asks as the building shakes all around them.

“I actually can’t. He’s on top of the rafters, swinging from the beams. Too far away, and it’s unsafe to stay in this room.”

“Well, we can’t let the building come down on top of him.”

“I got it,” Stark says, and before Steve can say a word, he flies past him and down the stairs. 

“Fuck,” Clint swears under his breath.

The others try to run faster, but by the time they get to the correct floor, Bruce is naked and unconscious. Whatever Tony did - she hadn’t managed to see, since some dumb AIM desk jockey had tried to attack her - whatever Tony did had worked, and the building seems no worse for wear despite the earlier shaking and the dust covering the warehouse floor. Still, Tony hadn’t been given permission to do that, and Steve in this mood…?

Just as she predicted, Steve’s had enough. He tears off his helmet and rounds on Tony, who is still in the Iron Man suit.

“That’s Nat’s job, Stark! I thought you knew better than that. You could’ve gotten yourself killed! And all of us with you!”

“For fuck’s… are you serious? You are  _ not  _ one to talk, Capsicle.”

“We have contingencies for this, Tony. I know you know what they are; we do this job all the fucking time!” 

Whoa, Steve  _ never  _ cusses. Not when he’s in uniform, at least. Nat’s eyes are calculating as she watches them. Maybe Clint should step in. Clint’s always the good guy. It’s impossible to see him as anything other than a big dumb dope. Unless, of course, he’s putting an arrow through your skull.

Just as she’s thinking it, Clint inserts himself between the two men. “Guys, guys! Come on, stop this bullshit. We got shit to do, then we can go home and debrief and get some rest. I know it’s been a long couple days. Let’s finish this.”

Steve isn’t stopping, though. “And you and your stupid goddamn assessment tools! Do you enjoy partaking in human rights abuses, Stark? Are you that much of a sadist?”

Natasha forcefully grabs Steve by the collar and leads him back down the stairs, leaving Bruce to Clint and Tony. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the confusion plastered on Tony’s face as he lowers his suit’s faceplate.


	3. Chapter 3

  


The office is nice. A mural of butterflies decorates one wall, while on the adjacent wall, the Manhattan sun shines through, giving the scene a warm glow. Designed to make people less nervous, maybe? Though most people don’t have a reason to be nervous. Most people’s lives don’t change much, if at all, at least after their assessments.

Bucky Barnes, though. Bucky’s fucked. Bucky is so fucked it’s not even funny.

The test is over, and he’s in the waiting room, but it’s obvious the way everyone is looking at him what the results are going to be. He failed. He couldn’t hide the way he is - his need to serve - from them. Damn Stark and his… mind reading? Whatever bullshit. The old bastard died a decade ago, but his legacy lives on, in his tech and in his arrogant prick of a son. Who is probably one of Steve’s best friends.

And Steve. Why would Steve want anything to do with someone who carries around a beta’s baggage? A collar, which really just amounts to a ball and chain, dragging the dom down with him. Essentially, they’re slaves, who were supposed to have been freed in the 1800s. Somehow, they’re shackled again, and Bucky never could understand that. Granted, that might not be a fair comparison - not much of the population is even rated as ‘kinky,’ let alone ‘beta,’ but still. It’s hard not to compare when it’s your head on the chopping block.

He’s getting ahead of himself, though. Maybe there’s no situation yet. _Stop worrying until you get that piece of paper, Barnes_.

Except the receptionist’s gaze is suspiciously close to pity.

The door next to the desk opens again, admitting a female suit with long, flowing brown hair into the waiting room, looking every inch the impersonal government middle manager. He hasn’t seen her yet; maybe she’s a director or something. Not a good sign. Bucky swallows.

“Mr. Barnes? If you don’t mind coming with me?”

Certain that it’s an order and not a request, he meekly follows her. It’s not in his nature to argue, not with someone who exudes so much authority - if it had been, he never would’ve been in this mess to begin with - but that doesn’t mean he isn’t seething inside. And shaking like a chihuahua in the presence of a hawk, too. A lot of emotions, in fact, and none of them positive.

She leads him down the hall, past the testing rooms, to the office at the very end. She motions him to take a seat at the desk while introducing herself as - he guessed it - the director of the center.

“Now, Mr. Barnes, your results are back. I can give you your packet to read here, if you like, but something tells me you already know what the results are.”

Bucky grimaces, looking down at the floor. He is _so_ fucked.

She continues, this skinny bitch with her fancy perfume and heels, who is handing Bucky the worst day of his life on a faux silver platter covered in dog shit. Like this is something to be proud of, when it’s anything but.

“Well, formally you are now classified as a beta. And as you are no doubt aware, there are rules in society for how a beta must behave. An armed escort will take you to your home, and you will be given a temporary collar. You have thirty days to find a master willing to take you in or one will be appointed to you by the state. Your testing appointment is in ninety days. If you do not pass, you will be appointed another master by the state. You are required to take an additional class on proper public and private behavior. You will have a curfew, as well. If you have questions, refer to the guide in your envelope. Guards?”

Bucky stares at the woman, stunned, as the guards come to grab him by the arms. He’d thought - knew - this was going to happen, but now that it has, it seems beyond surreal. Like a dream, and he’s moving through it slow as molasses. He feels the heat of shame in his face, all down his body. Goddamn the government, god _damn_ this stupid fucking society and its stupid fucking rules. _Fuck_ all of this. Fuck Ronald Reagan in his fucking grave while he’s at it.

The anger takes over the rolling, dreamlike quality and reality snaps back in a rush. “This isn’t who I am, lady! Just because I enjoy certain things doesn’t mean I don’t want my own life! Why are you doing this? _Why?_ ” His voice is piercingly loud and he’s crying, but those are really the least of his worries as the plain black plastic collar snaps around his neck.

The guards are impassive and immoveable in their handling. They ignore his cries and tears and just lead him to their car. It’s almost past curfew for betas, though he knows he needs to talk to someone, cry it out, get help somehow. There’s no way he can deal with life like this, shackled and useless.

He can’t get to his friends now. He can’t reach his therapist, either, not at this hour. That leaves nobody to turn to, save one person. One who lives in his building. The only one that might be able to help calm Bucky down.

Captain America.

 

***

 

Bucky doesn’t even have to say anything. As soon as the door opens, Steve scoops him up into the tightest hug Bucky’s ever had, even picks him up off the floor for it. It’s warm in his arms and it feels safe. Bucky never wants to let go.

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers into his ear. “I’m so sorry.”

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for, Steve. This wasn’t your fault,” Bucky whispers back, on the verge of tears again.

Steve lets him down and shakes his head. “I’d have never let this happen to this country if I’d been alive. Or awake, whatever. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. But it’s not my place to rant right now. I need to take care of you.”

Bucky glances at him, an idea taking shape in his head that honestly hadn’t occurred to him before now. Which is surprising, he reflects, accepting a glass of water from Steve and gulping it down like a man dying of thirst. He follows him to the couch, sitting close enough for their thighs to touch. Bucky’s not sure if Steve’s thinking the same thing, but there’s only one way to find out.

He can’t make himself do it, though. How does somebody ask something like that? _Will you be my master?_ sounds like the dumbest question ever. He hardly knows Steve.

_That’s the point of dating. You get to know someone you otherwise wouldn’t know._

Except this wouldn’t be a typical relationship. It’d have to be permanent, or he’d be in the hands of the state, and then what would become of him? Though if he doesn’t find someone soon, he might end up there anyway.

Bucky sighs and tries to put away the very idea, though a yarn of it remains, annoying him in the way it would annoy a kitten. He just has to play with it.

“So what am I gonna do?”

Steve sighs. “I’m not sure, Buck.”

Steve meets his eyes, such a soft blue in the fading daylight that Bucky’s bones physically ache to touch the man, he’s so beautiful. And sweet. And awkward, and everything Bucky needs in his life.

That yarn just won’t go away, no matter how much he tries to bat it under the couch.

“What happens to you now? I really only got the basic story. Got me seeing red, the little bit I read up on,” Steve admits.

“Well, I won’t be able to work. My bills will be covered for the next month while I find a ‘master.’ Then I’ll move in with her… or him.” Steve raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, so… I’ll only be allowed limited time with friends. I’m expected to be available to meet my master’s needs at any time. I have a curfew, have to wear this stupid thing, too.” He fingers the collar. “And in ninety days…” Bucky shudders, unable to think about that just yet.

“The second assessment. Yeah, I know a little bit about that.” Steve’s jaw tightens and his face burns a little, not in that shy way he has when (attempting to) flirt, but with what Bucky imagines is deep seated anger. “The real abuse.”

Bucky’s struck by how good anger looks on Steve. “Yeah, it is, no matter what they try to tell us in school. The worst part about all of this is that, like, how am I supposed to find someone when I can’t go out at night? How stupid is that?”

“Par for the course, it seems. You can’t even go out with a chaperone?”

“No, but how would that not make things worse, Steve? Think about that; it’d be like dating someone with your parents watching.”

Steve huffs a sad laugh. “That collar marks you anyway. I guess most people wouldn’t want to have to deal with the responsibility.”

Bucky’s skin goes ice cold. “Yeah. Exactly.” Of course Captain America wouldn’t want to deal with it - why would Bucky even entertain such a silly idea? Tears roll down his face once more, and Steve’s hands are on him, pulling him close. It’s so comfortable here, even though Bucky feels pathetic, but he pulls back quickly, wiping his eyes.

“The only way you’re even remotely gonna be fine is if you find someone you trust. Quickly. And I’ve seen it firsthand: You are an awful flirt.”

“Hey!” Bucky glares half-heartedly. “I’ll have you know I’m a great flirt. I’m not normally that awkward. It’s just… you’re Captain America.”

That was the wrong thing to say, and he knows it as soon as it’s out of his mouth. The air in the room grows frigid, and Steve’s jaw clenches again.

“Not… not because you’re Captain America. But because you’re hot.”

Okay, that’s better. A small grin turns up one corner of Steve’s mouth.

“Anyway. I’m usually pretty damn smooth. Even as a sla- submissive. My friend Jimmy used to call me a ladies’ man,” he says ruefully.

Steve grins, full and wide. “Not a man’s man then, huh.”

Bucky throws a pillow at Steve’s face. “Not. Awkward. I said.”

“Well, shit. I’m as awkward as can be. Ever since 1919, in fact.” Steve smiles like he’s proud of that fact. Which, okay, the 1919 part of it is a hell of a feat.

“Some dom/beta pair we are.” Bucky’s face immediately burns red hot. “I mean - “

Steve’s face softens and he skips over the obvious meaning behind Bucky’s words. “You’re not a beta, Bucky. Not a slave. Not to me.”

“See this collar?” Bucky bitterly pulls at it. “I am to everyone else.”

The sun is almost ready to go down. He stares off into the horizon line, pensive. Steve fidgets next to him, and Bucky turns, marveling at his golden aura. Like an angel.

Bucky’s fucking gone on this man, and he’s barely known him two weeks.

“I was thinking,” Steve starts. Then he clears his throat, blushes again - the cute one this time - and looks away. If Bucky hadn’t known any better, he’d think Steve had a little bit of sub in him. “I wanted to know if maybe… maybe you’d want to give it a try. With me, I mean.”

Steve visibly forces himself to look Bucky in the eye. These may be strange circumstances, but it’s still a kind of courtship. There’s still potential rejection to consider. Even Captain America isn’t immune to such worries; he’s still human, after all.

But Bucky can’t believe his ears. Despite his own thoughts, despite their easy camaraderie from the very beginning, despite Steve’s clear disdain of the situation and desire to help Bucky however he can… Bucky did not see this coming. It’s too good to be true, really. He wants to slap himself and whisper _wake up._

“I...“

“Oh, uh. We don’t really know each other very well. I’m sorry, forget I said anything.”

“No, no!” Bucky nearly yells.

Steve freezes.

“I mean… Yes, of course, I want to try it with you. I’m just… surprised. That you’re okay with it. You’re a busy man and it’s a lot of responsibility.” Steve’s face softens at that. “And I just wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“I know. Me too.”

They smile at each other sadly for a moment, until Bucky snaps himself out of it. “This should be a happy occasion, starting a new relationship. I can’t believe we met like this.”

“But at least we met.”

The sun finally slides beneath the horizon, drowning the room in twilight greys, and Bucky’s heart speeds up. He swears Steve’s eyes dilate at the same time, like he can hear it, but that’s not possible, is it? He has no idea what a super soldier can or cannot do.

“Yeah. You wanna meet one of my friends tonight? I can have her bring over some takeout. She’s good for that. Or we can just hang out here, watch some television or something. I’m not gonna push you to do something you’re not ready for. I don’t care what the government thinks I should be doing.”

Well, Steve might be Captain America, but Bucky’s pretty sure even he would never get away with refusal of the second assessment. He doesn’t focus on that, though.

“Your friend would want to meet me already?”

“Well.” Steve’s blush is visible even in the low light. “I might’ve already told her about you.”

“You dirty dog.”

Steve’s delight practically lights up the room. “Yeah, I guess I am. What can I say? I really liked you. And Natasha got an earful of my rant, too.”

“Natasha… the Black Widow? Like, the one and only _Black freakin’ Widow_?”

“The very same.”

“Wow,” he breathes. “It’s like being surrounded by celebrities. Shit. This is gonna put me in the spotlight, isn’t it.”

“Unfortunately. Even with my best efforts, the paparazzi are going to see us together, and see the collar around your neck. They’ll know Captain America has a beta.”

Bucky’s face falls. It’s not like all of his friends and former classmates won’t know anyway, but being a public spectacle is not something he particularly wants to deal with.

“I’m gonna make it better for you than it would be otherwise, though,” Steve continues. “Show the world you’re worth more than just servitude.” His voice sounds determined, and it gives Bucky a bit of hope.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers. “I guess I can meet her, then. I mean, who wouldn’t want to meet her? And we’ll have time later, right?”

“Yeah. You can even stay here tonight if you want. In the guest room, if you want that.”

The tears threaten to fall again, this time from gratitude. “Thank you,” Bucky whispers. They both know it’s about more than just the guest room.

“Fill out this checklist tomorrow, just for me. It’s the same checklist they give every submissive when they get their status. I’ll handle filing the official paperwork. I want you to get some good sleep tonight, and that _is_ an order. Now go wash up. I have a few pairs of pants from when Clint’s stayed over after missions, but you’ll have to wear one of my shirts. Let me know if you need anything to help you, alright?”

Bucky nods, yawning, and stumbles off to the spare bedroom. He feels Steve’s eyes on him until he’s out of sight. Despite himself, he feels alright. Better than he has in weeks, in fact. Maybe things won’t be as bad as Bucky fears they will, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos and comments have meant the world to me! Thank you for supporting this crazy story!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT DUE TO THE NATURE OF BUCKY'S POSITION. Details are given in the end notes of this chapter if you're concerned. Please, please read them if there's any doubt in your mind that you can't handle dubious consent. You can always skip this chapter if you want.

  
  


Steve’s favorite supermarket is ridiculous. For a guy supposedly still getting used to the twenty-first century, he sure does have expensive taste. Four stalks of asparagus in a jar of water costs over six dollars -  _ ridiculous, _ he said! - and there’s ten dollar pints of ice cream, one of which contains  _ kale _ of all things. And what the hell is spotted dick supposed to be? Where would he even find that?

By the time he’s gotten everything on Steve’s list, Bucky’s tired and cranky. Worse, it’s almost dark out; he lost track of time searching for things like  _ pork faggots _ , and suddenly it sounds like a very good idea to bean Captain America over the head. He bounces on his toes while standing in line, terrified of getting caught out after curfew. When he gets to the cash register, the cashier glances at his collar and gives him a knowing look. Bucky swallows his terror. He’s heard a few things about what happens to betas in jail cells, even though they can only be held for twenty-four hours in the first thirty day period. Still, getting caught out on the second day of his ‘beta-hood’ would be a bad idea. Getting caught out on  _ any _ day is.

Whole Foods is only three blocks from the apartment, but he has no time to call a cab. He can’t call Steve to come get him - shame, because Bucky’s much less likely to get picked up by a cop if he’s chaperoned, and they won’t bother Captain America himself - because Steve is doing some mandatory team building exercise with the Avengers. Bucky doesn’t have much choice but to risk walking home alone.

The evening is pleasant and Bucky finds himself wishing he could take a long stroll in the twilight, and a pang of resentment goes through him. The odds that he’ll ever be able to do that again are slim to none at this point, at least not within city limits. He supposes there’s no point railing against what’s happened to him; there’s nothing either he or Steve can do about it. He’s just thankful that he found Steve when he did. Who knows where he would have ended up otherwise.

Lost in his own thoughts, Bucky misses the police car that pulls up beside him. It’s a shame because he’s only one block away from home; he might’ve been able to make a run for it if he’d dropped his bags. No such luck, though. The cop is walking up to him before he realizes it’s too late.

Of course his luck would be this shitty. Of  _ course _ it would.

“Sir, are you aware that you are out after curfew?”

“I… uh, I’m new to this, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - “

“Answer the question, young man.”

The cop is a tiny female, can’t be much older than Bucky himself, but it’s immediately clear that there will be no arguing his way out of jail. Shit, forget what might happen to him there. Steve’s gonna kill him for not paying more attention to the time.

He swallows. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Then you know you’ll need to come with me.”

“Please, I’m only a block from home, I was just out getting groceries - “

“That’s not an excuse. You’re not a sub, you’re a beta. And where the hell is your master, anyway?”

Bucky bristles at that. “With all due respect, I only got my assessment yesterday, ma’am. And he’s a little busy training with the Avengers right now.”

She rolls her eyes. “Uh huh. I’m sure he is. Get in the car, before I have to force you.”

Bucky does as he’s told, mostly because he’s aware that continuing to argue would just make it worse for himself. Clearly this lady doesn’t give a shit about his circumstances. Bucky’s sense of millennial pride is hurt; his inner special snowflake is railing against the injustice of it all. Then again, his master is Captain America, and that’s special enough for a lifetime. Normally, he’d say something like  _ I’ll let it go this time _ , but this is his new normal.

She doesn’t go easy on him as she cuffs him and throws him in the back seat. The entire drive to the station is awkwardly silent, and Bucky’s stomach starts to churn. He’s not sure what will happen to him in jail, but it’s bound to be ugly. 

By the time they actually get to the station, Bucky feels like he’s going to throw up. He wants Steve more than anything right now. Steve, who is, for better or worse, responsible for him. Steve, who feels so strong and warm wrapped around him. 

At least he gets a phone call. And thankfully, Steve picks up on the second ring. Bucky’d have really been freaking out if he hadn’t answered.

“Hey, Buck. Is something up?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m kind of at the police station.”

The line is silent before Steve sighs. “Am I going to have to punish you already?”

Bucky swallows. “Probably not. I’ll get plenty of that where I’m at.”

Steve’s voice immediately softens. “Don’t worry, gorgeous. I’ll be there to get you out as soon as we’re back in Manhattan. Three hours, tops.”

Oh fuck, three hours. Plenty of time for the prisoners - and the guards - to have their fun. 

Steve interprets Bucky’s silence for what it is. “Hey, hey, don’t worry. If they hurt you, I’ll have their hides.”

“Steve, what on earth are you going to do to them? I’m effectively a slave, and I broke the law. I don’t really have many rights. They can do a whole hell of a lot outside of ‘no permanent damage’ here.”

“Bullshit. Psychological damage is permanent damage.” Steve’s voice is hard, and Bucky suddenly loves him for his unwavering sense of justice. It’s a shame the world doesn’t see things the way he does. 

“Just hurry,” he whispers, on the verge of tears again. Ugh, Steve must think he’s so pathetic with as much as he’s cried in their short time together.

“I will,” Steve replies quietly. “Hang tight, Buck.”

And that’s that - Bucky’s thrown to the wolves.

  
  


They circle him - five men in a giant holding cell. There are several empty individual cells in the room, but of course the guards put him in with a bunch of other people, just because he is what he is. He backs slowly into the corner, trying to keep an eye on all of them. It’s generally assumed that criminals tend to be doms, though that’s questionable in the literature. The way they’re eyeing him, these guys must be. Though if he were a submissive in this situation, he’d likely pretend to be as predatory as the rest of ‘em, despite having more legal protections than a slave. A mean dom is a scary dom, and Bucky’s scared out of his head.

He looks to the clock on the wall. Steve had said three hours, but it’s only been fifteen minutes since the phone call. There’s no way he can hold off all these guys for that long. He wonders what they’ll do to him. Will they rape him? Smack him around a little… or a lot? Technically, they’re not supposed to treat other prisoners like this - prisoner-on-prisoner violence is illegal - but it directly conflicts with the law stating that betas are barely human and can be punished ‘by the guards’ when in jail. So odds are good this is going to end badly for him. 

At least he’s got Steve to go home to at the end of whatever abuses they have planned. At least there’s that. Captain America is practically untouchable by the law. Whatever the other prisoners do to him, he’ll take great pleasure in watching Steve give these douchebags a taste of their own medicine. There is no doubt in his mind that’s what Steve’s gonna do. For now though, he has to get through it. 

What hurts the most is that he’s never been with another man, at least not ‘all the way.’ And he wants his first to be Steve - wants it so badly it hurts. Maybe he can hold them off in other ways.

“So, kid. You got caught, huh? Not so smart, I guess.” 

This one’s gotta be the leader. He’s tall and broad-shouldered but overweight, nothing at all like Steve. His hair is greasy too, and Bucky closes his eyes and prays he doesn’t smell funky on top of that. The man approaches and grabs Bucky by his hair, forcing him to look up. Jesus, the guy is large. Bucky gulps, hoping he’s not large  _ everywhere _ .

“Well, I think we can teach you a lesson. What do you say, boys?”

The others make noises of agreement, but Bucky is too zoned out to care. He’s ashamed to admit that this is turning him on, even as it disgusts him.  _ And this is why you rated beta, you ninny _ , he tells himself with more than a little self-loathing.

“What,” he gasps, half turned on and half terrified, “what do you want me to do, sir?” He feels his cock twitch, fully hard now. 

_ God, why does that turn you on so much? What the fuck is wrong with you? _

“I want you to get on your knees and suck me.”

Thank goodness. Bucky can do this, has done it plenty of times before. It’ll be unpleasant, but it’s better than it could be. He only hopes it remains that way.

The guy forces Bucky down onto his knees and up against the wall. Bucky goes willingly, knowing that fighting won’t do him any good. If - when - they end up bending him over, he’ll fight. He won’t be able to help it then. But this? He can do this.

Just as the guy - Joe, everyone else is calling him, and what a basic name that is - is stepping up and pulling his zipper down, a guard comes in.  _ Thank God _ , Bucky thinks, at least until he sees the guard staring at him hungrily. He almost wants to roll his eyes at this whole mess. At this point, they might as well all get in line and get it over with. 

Thankfully - or not? - the guard isn’t interested in using him just yet. “Get back, boys. You’re gonna get a show first.” He opens the gate and roughly grabs Bucky’s arm, hauling him out and moving him into another large cell, this one empty. Hanging from the ceiling are restraints intended to keep Bucky’s arms raised above his head. He can see the spreader bar the cop is going to use on him. Now his cock is painfully hard. The self-loathing grows exponentially. 

Once he’s naked and tied in place, the guard pulls out a simple flogger. It’ll leave marks but it’s not heavy enough to actually break his skin. Bucky sighs; he’s taken much worse than this before. It’s probably just the beginning of whatever this asshole has cooked up for him, but that’s okay. 

The guard brings it around and shows it to Bucky, lifting his chin to make sure he gets a good look at it, then makes him kiss it. The guys in the next cell, his would-be rapists, laugh when his cock twitches yet again and spits a little bit of precome onto his belly. 

_ Well, now I know the assessment will be no problem _ , he thinks bitterly.

He hears the guard move behind him. There’s a few seconds of silence, and then  _ thwap! _ He feels the first hit against his bare ass. Bucky shivers with the rush of it, the excitement. If this is meant to be a punishment or to deter him from bad behavior, they sure aren’t going about it the right way. 

The thought almost makes him laugh. This is for nothing but their own sport.

“Okay, guy. Hope you’re ready for it.” 

The other men laugh again. There’d probably be popcorn in here if the guards allowed it. Bucky’s sure this is the best show they’ve seen in awhile. 

The guard starts giving it to him. The beating doesn’t break the skin, but it does leave plenty of marks, and by the time the it’s all over, Bucky’s breathing hard with both arousal and pain. He doesn’t have many masochistic tendencies, but he does like feeling used, and the humiliation of having this done in front of so many people is clearly doing it for him. Big time.

The guard leaves the room while he hangs there, long enough for his dick to calm down a little. They probably won’t let him get off tonight, more’s the pity, because he’d like to at least get  _ something _ out of this clusterfuck. Something other than abuse and Steve’s disappointment in him on top of that. 

The guard comes back with an array of instruments this time around, along with a bottle of lube. Bucky gulps a deep breath, mouth suddenly dry, when he sees that. He begs a god he doesn’t believe in for Steve to get here in time. The clock says an hour has passed since he talked to Steve. Maybe he can get here in time.  _ Maybe. _

Now he’s hit with a riding crop. He’s never had one used anywhere other than his thighs and buttocks. The cop marks him up from shoulders to ankles with it. Unsurprisingly, he’s hard again by the time that’s over. He’s also sore as hell. And thankful that his front is still clear of marks. 

Bucky starts getting really scared when the guard shows him the single tail.

“Bet you thought we were gonna let you off easy, didn’t you. Little bitch. Like I’d ever go easy on someone like you. We’re just gonna finish this up real quick here, get you nice ‘n bloody, then I’ll let the boys have a go at you.”

The ‘boys’ cheer in the background. Bucky just stands there stupidly, zoning out as best he can. 

He dutifully kisses the single tail and closes his eyes tight as the cop experimentally swishes the lash through the air behind him. Even so, the first hit comes as a shock. He gasps and his eyes fly open. It stings like a bitch but it doesn’t break the skin. The next one doesn’t either, but the third has him crying out in pain. There’s a thin trail of blood running down his back now. Surprisingly, no tears yet. Those will be coming soon, though, no doubt about it.

After the fifth lash, the door to the holding area opens. Bucky flinches back, ashamed, but when he realizes who’s there, joy rushes through him. He does start crying then.

“Steve,” he whispers.

Steve’s face falls for a second when he sees Bucky. In that moment, Bucky decides he never wants to make Steve’s face do that ever again. He’ll be the most obedient submissive in the entire world if it means he never has to see it again.

It doesn’t take Steve long before he has his Captain America face back on again, and this time it’s an angry version of Captain America that Bucky hadn’t known Steve had in him. Though he should’ve guessed. This must be what it feels like to be Captain America’s enemies. Bucky doesn’t envy them.

“Open this cell right now.”

The entire room has gone silent. Good, that means they know Steve Rogers means business. They also know that fucking with Steve Rogers is probably a very bad idea. 

Bucky can practically hear the guard thinking behind him. Weighing his options. Ultimately, he decides that he really has none and sighs. “Fun’s over, boys. Apparently Captain America himself has a slave.”

The prisoners chuckle nervously. Oh, they’ll throw barbs at Steve’s back once he’s out of the room - and Steve won’t care, as long as he has Bucky with him - but they’d never dare to do that in front of him, the fucking cowards.

The guard hands Steve the keys to Bucky’s bonds. Bucky’s knees buckle as soon as he’s free, and Steve has to hold him up. His shoulder feels solid and warm against Bucky’s cheek. He wants to fall asleep here, and maybe never wake up while he’s at it. 

Steve murmurs to him, sweet nothings interspersed with  _ you’ll be okays _ and _ I’m so so sorrys _ . He distantly wonders what the hell Steve has to be sorry for; it’s Bucky who should be sorry. It was Bucky who put himself in this position, Bucky who was dumb enough to get himself caught. 

The checkout of the police station is a blur, as is the ride home. Bucky’s utterly exhausted by the time Steve carefully lays him down on his stomach in the guest bed. 

“Mmm… Steve. Steve,” Bucky whimpers. “Steve. Can’t sleep like this. Want you here.”

He hears Steve swallow. “I’m so sorry, Buck. I should’ve realized - this is so new to both of us, this whole stupid fucked-up situation. I got there as soon as I could. I’m gonna dress your back for you right now, okay? Just go to sleep, gorgeous. I’ll be right here.”

He moves to get up, but Bucky grabs his wrist before he can go far. “Promise you won’t leave?”

“I promise,” Steve replies softly.

“You better not.” Bucky is mumbling now, drifting in and out of some weird headspace that even he’s not sure he could define.

“I promise,” Steve says, more firmly this time. “Go to sleep.” 

He reaches down and kisses Bucky’s temple, running fingers through his hair, and _ oh god _ it feels so good. By the time Steve gets up again, Bucky is sound asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets caught by the police for being out after curfew. He's thrown in a jail cell with other men, who threaten to rape him. He's pulled out by a guard who then strips him down and whips him, using derogatory language, while the would-be rapists cheer. During all of this, Bucky gets turned on and loathes himself for it. Steve walks in and saves him before the beating is finished.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

 

It’s 0300 hours on a Friday morning, and Steve Rogers officially feels like shit. The past three days have consisted of nothing but fights between himself and his newfound submissive. He’s starting to question whether or not it was a good idea to even begin this relationship in the first place. He chides himself for such an awful thought, though; for one thing, he could never have left Bucky out in the cold like that, and for another... Well. Steve does care about Bucky. A great deal, in fact. More than he likes to admit to himself.

But how James Buchanan Barnes ended up with the classification of beta submissive, Steve will never understand, because Bucky is a  _ royal pain in the ass _ . And there has to be something wrong with Steve because he’s known Bucky all of three weeks and is already falling in love with him. 

He tiptoes into Bucky’s room, unable to keep still. The news he’ll have to deliver today is probably going to drive Bucky crazy, considering how things have been going, but there’s nothing for it. He’s got a job to do and the team is counting on him to be there. 

In the meantime, though, he can be here for his submissive. And he _ is _ a submissive; Steve refuses to think of him as a slave. Beta. Whatever. He watches Bucky from the doorway as light filters in through the blinds and zigzags over his sleeping form. It aches, but Steve will just have to love him from the doorframe, longing for something more than this bad blood between them but unable to find it within himself to give in just yet. 

That’s the crux of the problem. Bucky’s still healing, and Steve can’t bear the thought of hurting or humiliating him - in  _ any _ way - right now. That asshole guard drew blood, something Steve isn’t very fond of doing himself, though he’s not opposed to it given the right circumstances. But Bucky hadn’t been ready for what was done to him. Nobody prepped him properly; in fact, it was quite the opposite. They were rapists and abusers, using him for sport. He’d never tell Bucky what happened after he put him in the car to go home, but he wouldn’t take it back, either. Those fuckers got the fear of Captain America’s wrath drilled into them, and that’s a guarantee.

Steve decides to go for a run, even though it’s way too early in the morning to do so. Without Bucky running with him as he’d been doing since they became a dom/ sub pair, he’s able to run without holding back. The tension of the last few days drains out of him until he’s absolutely exhausted. May not be the best idea, given that they have no clue what the hell AIM has cooked up for them out in the desert, but fuck it. He can sleep on the quinjet. Maybe the exhaustion will help, because there is no doubt in his mind that, however the conversation goes, he’ll be worried sick about his sub stuck here at home.

Bucky wakes up when he smells coffee. Steve kind of wishes he hadn’t introduced him to Whole Foods. Now he’s a gourmet coffee fiend. Like a spoiled cat, he refuses to touch anything but the most expensive variety. It reminds Steve of Clint. Yeah, Bucky and Clint are going to get along just fine.

“Fuck, this is good stuff,” Bucky says when he’s awake enough to be human. Steve just rolls his eyes and smiles fondly, forcing the upcoming conversation from his mind. He takes a moment to stare at Bucky, with his wild morning hair and bright eyes, sitting at the breakfast bar and waiting patiently for Steve to cook. 

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah, Buck?”

“I just want to say I’m sorry. For, y’know, being me.”

That makes Steve laugh. “You don’t ever have to be sorry for being you. I’d rather have a sub who’s genuine and honest than a doormat.”

“Which is why my classification doesn’t make sense, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Steve sighs. “Stop apologizing to me, Bucky. This is a tough situation, but I made the decision to go through it with you. And I’m not sorry I did, either.”

“You mean it?”

He nods. “I mean it.”

They hang out in comfortable silence while Steve finishes breakfast, but when he sits down to eat, his stomach rebels. Which is unfortunate considering that he can’t get away with not eating thanks to his metabolism. Finally, things between them are getting better, and he’s going to have to break Bucky’s heart again soon. He can’t help but feel like shit over that. And Bucky hasn’t been in an emotionally stable place since… well, since Steve’s known him. Not that Steve minds it or doesn’t understand why it’s the case. But this is going to be hard no matter what. And he has to leave in… two hours. Fuck.

Time to bite the bullet.

“I hate saying this, but unfortunately, I have to go in a few hours. An assignment. It looks like I might be gone awhile.”

“What does ‘awhile’ mean?” Bucky already looks a little freaked. Shit.

“About a week?”

He watches with an increasingly sour stomach as Bucky closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to calm himself. Steve knows he deserves every little bit of what Bucky is going to say to him.

“Steve. I’m no longer allowed to work. I can putz around here, go to the gym, spend a limited amount of time with friends... “ Those blue-grey eyes open, and Steve’s heart breaks when he sees the tears welling in them. “Whether it’s what we want or not, whether it’s fair or not, I exist to serve you now. What the hell am I gonna do for a week? I’m a hot fucking mess over here.”

He’s not crying yet, which Steve takes for a win. A small one, but still. He shrugs, dejected and out of ideas.

Then something unexpected happens: Bucky gets up and pulls him into a tight hug. “It’s okay, really. I’ll spend some time with my friends and work on my crocheting. Got somethin’ I wanna make you anyway. Keep the place clean. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to feel choked up. “God, I’m so sorry to do this to you.”

Bucky pulls back. “Stop apologizing, you big sap. I’m gonna go to Freddie’s house, get out of your hair. Please be safe, okay?”

In that moment, Steve feels such a surge of love for his submissive that it nearly knocks him over. He’s everything Steve ever wanted, even if Bucky’d never believe that. He just hopes Bucky isn’t trying to cover up an impending serious emotional breakdown for his sake.

Steve can’t help it. He draws him back in and kisses him. It’s difficult not to overwhelm Bucky with it, because his heart is pounding a rhythm of _ mine, mine, mine _ , but this is for Bucky, to say with actions what he can’t say with words yet. It starts soft, close-mouthed, until Steve bites Bucky’s lip. Bucky opens his mouth to gasp and Steve takes it as an invitation, tonguing his mouth and getting his first taste. Bucky kisses back, not urgent at all, letting Steve take the lead just like he’s meant to do. Steve starts to harden in his pants, but he pulls back before that goes too far. It’d be a bad idea to get caught up in that right now, loathe as he is to admit it.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. I swear it.”

And Bucky can’t do anything other than rub his lip in wonder and stare at Steve with wide eyes.

And that one, Steve  _ definitely _ counts as a win.

 

***

 

This time around, Steve is unusually quiet. He can feel his teammates’ eyes on him, but decides this isn’t the right time to inform them of the situation. Nat is the only one who knows, and he tries not to see her look of… what is it? Guilt? Sorrow? He thinks Nat might suspect something of his thoughts, but it’s impossible to tell with her.

In the meantime, there’s some weird shit going on here. They’d gotten a tip awhile back that there was an AIM cell out in the Mojave desert. As it turns out, there was - and they had had an entire underground facility dedicated to genetic experimentation. The Avengers thought they had put a stop to it, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

So it is that Steve, Clint, and Nat are in the middle of a small town fighting giant snails that rise from the sewers. He feels like he’s been written into an existentialist piece of literature in one of Tony’s alternate universes, fighting creatures he wouldn’t have believed existed unless he’d seen them with his own eyes, while everything that makes him feel human is so far away it hurts. And he could’ve been switched out with any other Avenger to handle this, but they just  _ had _ to choose him.

After several minutes of radio silence during which the team fights off the creatures, he chuckles loudly, making the other two jump. “You guys know, this is like the Ninja Turtles.” Clint’s had him watching the old television show and Steve finds it hilarious.

Nat takes down a snail with her stiletto, grimacing at the goo that pours out of it. “What? How?”

“Hey, I get it,” Clint offers, and yeah, Clint might be a train wreck of epic proportions, but he’s still  _ radical _ , as Michelangelo might say. “They’re giant mutated animals that come from the sewers. How do you not get that, Nat?”

“Uh, because I’m not a dork that spent the 90s doing nothing but sitting on my ass and eating corn dogs?”

“I’ll have you know, the carnival makes the best corn dogs in existence. You’d never have heard of ‘em if the carnival didn’t exist!”

“I’d have been much better off not having heard of them, Barton.”

“Hey, Nat? Ever heard of the Red Room?”

“Barton, you’re walking on thin ice right now.”

“You know that ballet thing they had women do? Lamest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Nat does a cartwheel and throws one of her knives at Clint, who ducks without looking.

“Thin. Ice.”

Steve rolls his eyes at the two of them bickering, too tired to do anything but smile fondly. They finish the wave of giant snails and fall back to the quinjet to regroup. He decides to call home. Maybe just hearing Bucky’s voice will be enough to get him through this.

 

And it does help, but unfortunately, what they find in the sewer is enough to drive them on to AIM’s hideout in this backwards town in the middle of nowhere. It’s enough to make Steve go a little mad. He wants to get out of here as soon as possible, so he makes them keep going, even after night falls. 

The AIM base reminds him uncomfortably of places he’d visited during the war. The Howling Commandos had helped him take down plenty of underground bunkers just like this, bunkers that were built below legitimate businesses, castles out in the country, farm houses. He’d seen it all. 

Steve shakes his head, trying to dispel the memories of so long ago. If he thinks about that stuff for too long, he can lose himself in it. Occasionally, he even panics, which would be really bad to have happen here. Nat calls it PTSD, which is just a fancy word for battle fatigue, or ‘fucked up,’ as Steve calls it.

“Uh, Steve? I think you’d better come over here.”

He doesn’t like the trace of fear in Nat’s voice. When he glances over, Clint looks a little nervous, too. These are some of the most fearless people he’s ever met. They’ve faced aliens and secret organizations and mutant supervillains. What could AIM possibly be up to?

When he opens the computer file, that PTSD support group starts looking like a much better idea than it ever has. There’s a lot of information encoded here that makes very little sense to him, but the one thing that makes him want to go running for the hills is one thing too many.

He calls Hill from the quinjet that night. She’s adamant that they need to get more information; the facility is huge and too valuable to leave behind yet. But that image flashes behind his eyes, and he knows he has to get out. He can’t do this. Not again. They were supposed to be wiped out; he’d died to make sure they were.

_ Cut one head off, and two shall grow in its place. _

Sonofabitch. 

Two hours after the phone call, he’s on the way home. The image has burned itself into his mind, though. Will he be able to wash it clean?

 

***

 

“What the hell are you doing home?

“I quit.”

Bucky spits out his coffee and looks at Steve incredulously. “Wait a second here. You did what, exactly?”

“I quit. I told them there was something more pressing at home, and they told me to ‘pull on my big boy panties’ and continue the assignment. So I told ‘em to shove it up their asses.” He doesn’t mention what they’d found out there, doesn’t mention Hydra or its apparent rebirth. He doesn’t want to think about it, either.

Bucky’s eyes are comically wide. “Okay, first of all, I didn’t know you used language like that.” Steve chuckles - it’s like people forgot that he led a group of soldiers during World War II - and Bucky glares at him. “And second of all, what the hell, Steve? The world needs you more than I do, you’ve gotta know that.”

Steve crosses the room in a swift movement. “I’m not so sure that’s true, and so the fuck what if it is? I need you just as much.” He pulls Bucky into a hug and gets a whiff of his freshly-washed hair that smells like cucumber-melon and Bucky and _ home _ . “God, I missed you.”

Bucky chuckles wetly against his neck. “You were gone for two days, doofus.”

That’s true, but he doesn’t care. His priorities are becoming more clear by the second. “It was awful knowing you were here alone, still dealing with how much your life has changed. This is traumatic for you; I shouldn’t have left to begin with.”

“God, you’re a sap.”

“For you? Yeah. I am.”

Bucky pulls back and gives Steve a watery smile. “So, you wanna tell me what you were fighting this time?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. “Um. Giant snails from the sewers… and before you ask, no, I have no idea how or why.”

Bucky barks a laugh. “What even is your life, grandpa?”

“Keep talkin’ like that, tough guy. You’re gonna see what I’m made of one of these days. You’ll see what this old grandpa can do.” 

Bucky shivers. “Promise?” 

He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face. This is how Steve and Bucky should be, giving each other shit and making filthy promises to each other. 

Bucky wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, you stink. Go take a shower.” He swats at Steve playfully.

“I suppose you’re right. Do me a favor and start dinner, would you?” It comes out as a request, but it’s really not, and thankfully, Bucky gets the picture immediately.

“Yes, sir,” he whispers.

Steve smiles at him softly. “Good boy. I’ll be out in a bit.”

Dinner goes swimmingly. 

 

In a few days, though, it becomes clear that there’s more trouble brewing between them. Bucky pushes for more; he wants to start really serving Steve, in and out of the bedroom, but Steve is more reluctant than ever, and he can’t quite articulate why. It’s just that every time he thinks about what those assholes did to Bucky, it makes him feel ill. People don’t just bounce right back from abuse like that. And he has to protect Bucky at all costs; that’s what it means to be a good dom.

But Bucky doesn’t see it that way at all. And that’s turning into a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments and kudos make me fly high! Thank you for your continued support.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

 

Thunder bangs like timpani in the sweltering air, air that carries the sights and sounds of Brooklyn into the modest apartment he shares with Steve. It’s not raining yet, but Bucky’s willing to bet the clouds will dump buckets within the next half hour. The release from the summer heat will be short-lived, but it’s welcome anyway. For whatever reason, Steve hasn’t turned on their crappy air conditioning yet, even in the ninety degree weather. Fucking hell, everything Steve does pisses him off now.

_ Oh _ yeah, there’s a storm brewing, and it’s not just outdoors. Bucky and Steve are arguing for what has to be the tenth time in three days. With the recent oppressive heat, they have been more and more short with each other, always over the same thing. He hopes to high heaven the storm is an omen. Please let it come to a head now. It has to, or he’s going to go crazy.

Bucky is ready to throw something at Steve’s perfect face. Maybe his favorite vase, the one given to him by Black Widow herself. The one with the flowers Bucky had randomly bought for him the other day. He seriously, viciously considers it. The asshole isn’t even mad, just looks at him with puppy dog eyes and says _ try to understand my position here, Buck _ . Like Steve has any idea where Bucky’s coming from at all. Like Steve knows Bucky better than he knows himself.

Like he knows what’s best for Bucky, and there’s the rub right there, isn’t it? There’s the irony in this whole mess of crap. Bucky is not meant for slavery. Not in the least. Submission, he can do. Service, great. Not having any choices at all? 

Fuck that.

“Why don’t you sit down and stop pacing?” Steve tells him for the hundredth time. It wouldn’t be so bad if he made it a command, if he told Bucky to do  _ anything _ , even, but Steve’s been handling him with kid gloves. And goddammit, he is not a kid!

“I’m not a kid, Steve. You’re supposed to be my dom, my  _ master,  _ for fuck’s sake. Why are you treating me like some kind of naughty teen who just got caught with porn? Might as well give me the birds and the bees talk now, huh? Get it over with?”

“Bucky Barnes, you are out of line.”

“See?! You just walked right into that! _ Unironically!” _

Steve sighs like the long-suffering grandpa he is. “Bucky, you need time.”

“Do I? Or is it you that needs it?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Uh, hello? We’re a couple? We’re talking about sex?”

Steve’s face gets that  _ Captain America is disappointed in you, son  _ look. Bucky throws up his hands. 

“I need to go for a walk now. I can’t handle this.”

Steve nods and lets him walk out. Ugh, Bucky just can’t _ stand  _ that sad puppy face.

It starts raining not five minutes after he’s out the door, clouding out the midday sun and adding a green flavor to the air. It’s blessedly cool on his skin, but Bucky is still burning hot like hell itself, skin smoking in the rain. All he can think is  _ asshole, Steve’s an asshole, he’s a shit dom, _ over and over again for what feels like a hundred miles, but by the time he reaches the subway three miles out, the rain has settled to a nice drizzle and he’s feeling much more calm. 

He tries to think it through, to look at it from Steve’s perspective. Steve walked in on him being abused, moments away from being raped by a gang of men and a situation where Steve might not even had had grounds to sue them. Not that that would’ve gotten Bucky’s innocence back anyway. He’s thankful he still has that to give to Steve, at least.

And Steve has PTSD, which he tries to hide from the world, but it’s more than obvious if one knows what to look for. Bucky’s cousin had had PTSD when he returned from Afghanistan, and sometimes the resemblance is uncanny. Sometimes he and Natasha share a look of understanding - there’s no doubt Steve deals with his own share of emotional problems.

The nightmares are the worst, when he has to lie in bed and listen to his dom scream himself hoarse. Last night it was worse than he’d ever seen it. Now he’s guessing there’s more to the ‘Captain America quits’ story than meets the eye. But it’s been going on for awhile. There’ve been a couple nights where he’s woken Steve up, helping him calm down before Steve made him go back into his own room. Yeah, Bucky’s discovered that Captain America is too proud to ask for help in the middle of the night; he’s sure Steve never went back to sleep any of those nights. But he never let Bucky stay.

Add to that his wish, expressed early on in their relationship, to really court Bucky - take him out on lunch dates, buy him presents, get to know him before sex, all the good stuff - and it makes sense that Steve would want to take it slowly. Just like they did back in his day.

But they don’t have _time_. Bucky’s danced around the truth of what’s coming in little more than two months, but they have to face it. The law is the law, and not even Captain America can break it. Forget the fact that it’s bullshit that Steve apparently doesn’t want to fuck Bucky (and Bucky’s staunchly avoiding the fear that Steve doesn’t want to fuck Bucky _ever_ ), there’s no getting around it. They have to know each other like the backs of their own hands, and time’s running out.

He’s shivering a little by the time he makes it back to their apartment, despite the returning humidity. When he walks in, Steve immediately wraps him up in a hug. 

“Did you enjoy your walk?” he asks, voice soft in Bucky’s ear.

“Yeah. It helped.”

“Good.” 

Steve leads him to the couch and sits next to him, holding his hand and looking pensively at the floor. 

“I need to-”

“We should talk about-”

They both chuckle. 

“You go first,” Bucky says. He wonders at the blue of Steve’s eyes. They’re unreal, like something out of a fairy tale. The fair-eyed prince, come to rescue the damsel in distress. Well, Bucky’s no damsel, but he’ll be damned if he’s not in distress. The thought is sobering.

“I’m not trying to make your life hard. You know that, right?” Steve reaches over and lifts Bucky’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. Bucky blushes. 

“I... “ Those sky blue eyes are killing him. He can’t think straight. “I, yeah. I know. I know you’re not.”

“I just want you to be safe. That’s my job as your dom, right?”

“Yeah, I mean, of course it is. But I don’t think you’re getting it. In less than ninety days, if we don’t prove to them that we can follow some bullshit arbitrary rules, they’ll tear us apart. There will  _ be _ no ‘me and you’ anymore. I can’t… I can’t stand the thought of that.”

Before Steve can reply, Bucky drops to his knees in front of him. Steve looks drained, done with the whole thing. Bucky gets it, he really does. He wants to be done with it, too, and just have a normal relationship with Steve.

“They’re gonna do it to us whether we like it or not, you know that,” he murmurs.

“I don’t like having my hand forced like that.”

“Neither do I. I’d happily take it slow if that’s what you wanted.” His voice drops to a murmur. “But Steve, I need this. I need to serve you. I need the rules, the structure, all of it. Tell me your rules and I’ll follow them, I swear it. I’m your submissive and I intend to be a good one.”

He wraps his arms around Steve’s torso, nuzzling his groin. “Please.” It’s like the whisper of leaves rustling in a light spring breeze, muffled against Steve’s body. 

Steve touches his face, runs his fingers through his hair. “I’ve told you a million times, Buck. You’re not just my submissive.”

Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “Show me, then,” he says into Steve’s thigh, and Steve wouldn’t have heard him if not for his super soldier hearing. But he does, and he picks Bucky up like he weighs no more than a sack of potatoes. A jolt of arousal goes through Bucky, that Steve can even do something like this. He wraps his legs around his dom’s hips and holds on for dear life as Steve carries him to the master suite, holding his gaze the entire way. It’s one of the most intimate moments of Bucky’s life. 

He’s deposited gently on the bed. Steve crawls up his body, sucking little marks on his neck around the collar, kissing the skin apologetically before moving on to the next bite. Bucky’s already zoned out and rock hard against Steve’s body, and it’s clear Steve is getting there, too. It’s thrilling, knowing that James Buchanan Barnes can turn Captain America himself on like this.

Steve leans to the side and props himself up on his elbow to look at Bucky. “You play dirty, you know that?”

Bucky rolls his eyes.

“Look, I know you’re right. I just want to protect you. I can’t help it; that’s how I am. Always have been that way. So if we’re not on our own timetable, I’m still going to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. I’m not gonna be rushed into doing things I don’t think you’re ready for. You can trust me to get you through this.” He ruffles Bucky’s hair.

Bucky briefly looks up at Steve’s eyes before looking down again; he can’t seem to keep his eyes on Steve’s face for the life of him. His body burns with - what, shame? Embarrassment? More than a little bit of arousal - every time. 

But Steve reads him well, and turns Bucky’s chin up again with his free hand. “Look at me when I talk to you, Bucky.” 

Bucky gulps but does as he’s told. He’s hard as  _ fuck _ in his jeans and it’s getting uncomfortable. 

“Good. Here’s some ground rules for the night. You’re gonna do what I say. You’re going to enjoy yourself. You’re going to let me make love to you and treat you like the most precious thing on the face of this planet. You got it?”

He nods, then says “Yes, sir,” in a voice tinged with arousal. Even like this, even in this context, Steve is incredibly commanding. He’s drawn to it, inexorably. On the verge of becoming addicted, even, and he’s hardly seen anything yet. 

Then Steve leans in with a sly smile. “Don’t worry. Later on I’m gonna fuck your ass so hard you can taste my come in your mouth.”

_ Fuck, _ okay. He might bust right here and now if Steve keeps talking like that. 

Steve starts pulling off Bucky’s clothes a little bit at a time. First his shirt, revealing Bucky’s slim, toned torso, nothing that compares to Captain America, but something Bucky is proud of nonetheless. He works hard to keep himself in shape and it’s clear Steve appreciates it. He blushes under Steve’s scrutiny, though, loving the feeling of vulnerability he has right now. It’s already overwhelming, and all Steve has seen of him are his chest and abs. Well, except for that night at the jail - but that doesn’t bear thinking about, and Steve wasn’t paying attention to that then anyway. 

Steve kisses down his neck and collarbone, taking it agonizingly slow, making Bucky squirm underneath him - at least until he takes Bucky’s nipple into his mouth. Bucky arches his back and hisses, trying to get friction on his cock. Steve, the tease, moves just out of reach and continues to suckle on Bucky’s nipple, using one hand to lightly pinch the other. Bucky wants more - more pain, more teeth, all of it - but that’s not what tonight is about. He’ll have to be patient for that. 

Steve comes back up to kiss his mouth again, tongue-fucking him slowly, sensuously. Bucky lets him take control, following his lead like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Steve tastes like the rain that had filled his senses earlier, hot and wet. He wants to taste it every day for the rest of his life, and  _ wow _ did that happen fast. Too fast. Scary fast. 

On one hand, he’s crazy, utterly insane for it. 

On the other, he’s the luckiest guy on Earth.

Steve’s hand gradually makes its way down his abs and into the waistband of his jeans, tickling him a little. He huffs a soft laugh into Steve’s mouth. 

“Duly noted,” Steve murmurs.

Steve teases all around his pelvic bones, his hips, reaching down to run fingertips over his thighs, and it’s absolute fucking torture. 

“Fuck, please.”

Steve pulls back to look at him but continues teasing. “You forgot a few things there, Buck. Like more words. And ‘sir.’”

“Ste… sir. I want you to touch me so bad. Please.”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I _ have _ been touching you. That’s awfully nice of me, don’t you think?”

Bucky groans. “Yes. It is, sir.”

“Mmm. Thank me.”

“Thank you, sir.” 

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

His eyes roll back in his head as Steve circles his cock with light fingertips. “Holy shit, you’re such a tease. I thought you were gonna - oh god, don’t stop that, Jesus, sir - I -  _ fuck _ \- I mean…”

Steve chuckles. “Poor baby. Can’t get out your words, huh?”

“I just thought-”

He cries out as Steve rakes his fingernails gently up his cock. Even through his briefs, it feels like white hot sparks against his skin.

“You thought…?”

“I want. God, I  _ want _ .”

“Aww, Buck. You’re not makin’ any sense.”

“Steve…” Bucky whimpers.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you. Just relax and let me take over.”

He does, closing his eyes and leaning back into the pillow, lifting his hips as Steve removes his pants and underwear in one go. He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, drinking in the sight, and blushes bright red. But he keeps his eyes closed and tries to stay relaxed. Steve’s gonna take care of him - he said so.

Steve kisses and licks all down his body, avoiding the obvious target and tasting him everywhere. Bucky’s never felt this vulnerable in his life, and he’s been in some compromising positions before. Being made love to like this is something else entirely, and Steve doesn’t even need ropes or crops or any of it to fuck him up. 

Everything’s hazy when Bucky feels Steve move against him. He cracks open an eye and sees that Steve has turned off the light - when did he do that? - and is taking off his own clothes. Bucky can’t even see straight, he’s so fuzzy. It feels so goddamn  _ good _ . He’d had no idea a simple tease could get him into subspace. It must be Steve.

Yeah, it’s Steve, he decides. Steve is magic.

Steve lays his big body on top of Bucky’s, careful not to crush him, holding himself up on his elbows. He’s so close to Bucky, skin to skin. It’s incredible, the heat of him. He imagines Steve pushing into his tight little hole and moans, sounding like a veritable whore and not giving a fuck about it. 

“God, fuck me. Will you fuck me?”

“Will you fuck me… “

“Sir?”

“You’d better get used to using that word,” Steve tells him, half-serious and half-teasingly. He rubs his nose against Bucky’s, making Bucky actually  _ giggle _ . Steve gives him a fond smile in return.

“Yeah, babe. I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Oh Jesus, thank you,” Bucky whispers reverently, and Steve laughs.

“No Jesus here, just me.”

Bucky refrains from saying how much of an angel Steve Rogers really is.

His cock is all worked up, but his muscles are still lax from earlier; it doesn’t take Steve long to get him ready. Steve lifts his legs up a little, spreading them outward before he lines his cock up, leaning down and into Bucky’s face.

“Hey, wait,” Bucky whispers.

“Yeah, Buck?”

“I, uh… I’ve never done this before.”

“With a man, you mean?”

“Yeah.” Why do those words make him feel like a naughty schoolgirl?

Steve’s grin seems bright even in the twilight of his bedroom; the afternoon sun’s rays sneak in through the curtains and give the room a bit of a glow. And Steve really  _ is _ like an angel, and Bucky marvels again how impossible it is that he’s even here.

“Kiss me, Bucky.”

Bucky pushes himself up an inch to meet Steve’s mouth and Steve presses into him carefully. It’s not painful like he’d expected it to be, like he’d read it can be from a lot of different sources; it’s more like pressure and stretching. It feels weird and _ full, _ but satisfying in a way nothing else has ever been. He cries out, but it’s out of shock, not pain.

Steve’s breaths fall heavily onto his face as he pushes deeper into Bucky’s body, gritting his teeth at tightness or heat or something else Bucky can only imagine. After an achingly long minute, he bottoms out, hips flush against Bucky’s own. He feels his cock in between them, hard as hell and leaking onto both of their stomachs.

He closes his eyes, but Steve grabs his chin in a way that he knows is a command to look at him. Even in the relative dark, Bucky blushes all the way down his chest. Steve’s eyes are such a gorgeous blue even in this low light, shining in that way that makes Bucky’s knees go weak. When Steve is sure that he has his attention, he starts to move.

At first it’s slow, each of them just getting used to the feel of the other. Soon enough, though, his lover starts to speed up, establishing a nice, calm rhythm as he watches Bucky’s face. Bucky doesn’t let himself look away. This intimacy is so far beyond anything he’d ever known possible, so far beyond his prior experiences or understanding that he almost can’t stay in his own head. He feels himself floating, up, up, and away, Steve watching over him the whole time. 

Then Steve moves his hips at a different angle, and Bucky wails. A couple more thrusts like that and he’s crying out, begging Steve to touch him, to let him come, to  _ make _ him come, to  _ force him  _ to come, and Steve leans on one elbow and obliges. He comes almost instantly, shooting up both of their chests and even hitting himself on the chin. 

He feels his muscles clamp down on Steve as he rides the high of his orgasm, and forces his eyes to stay open so he can watch Steve grit his teeth against the tightness and let go of his own careful control.

They breathe heavily for several minutes. Steve rolls off of him and Bucky grunts in discomfort when he feels Steve’s dick leave his body. His thighs are immediately slick with semen, and he shivers, picturing himself carrying it around inside for the rest of the day.

When they’re both breathing normally and Bucky can actually speak again, he turns to Steve.

“Wow.”

Steve laughs out loud, a sound that makes Bucky feel nice and warm inside. “Wow, huh?”

“Not… not wow for you?”

“Everything about you is wow for me, Buck,” Steve replies softly. 

Suddenly, there are tears in Bucky’s eyes. He turns into Steve’s neck and lets himself cry. What is wrong with him?

As though Steve were reading his thoughts, he explains. “Sometimes after a really intense scene, you can go through sub drop. I’m surprised you did after this, though. I didn’t do much to you.”

Bucky’s confused. “Sub drop? But I thought that was like... well. I don’t know what I thought it was, to be honest. I’ve never been through anything like this. It wasn’t even playing, really.” He sniffles.

“Just lie here with me, okay? I’ve got you. Cry if you need to, talk, do whatever it takes. I’m here for you.” He kisses Bucky’s forehead.

Bucky doesn’t cry for very long. He relaxes into Steve’s embrace, letting Steve’s warm, solid presence define him. For just this little while, he doesn’t have to worry about anything at all. 

He’s asleep when Steve brings them dinner to eat in bed. When Steve turns on the light, Bucky blinks owlishly. He’s naked and covered in dried come, which is all over Steve’s bed and gross as hell, but Steve just stares at him in awe. Like he really is something beautiful and precious, just like he’d said. 

They eat and Bucky showers, cleaning out his ass as well as he can. He’s surprised to find that it’s not fucked open at all, like he figured it would be. It occurs to him that sleeping in Steve’s bed tonight might be a little too messy. Plus, he’s not sure if Steve will want to sleep in the same bed with him. The thought makes him frown. 

“Hey, uh, maybe we should go sleep in my room tonight?”

“Yeah, you’ve got the right idea.” 

The tension in Bucky’s shoulders loosens; he hadn’t realized how tightly wound up he was, worrying that maybe Steve wouldn’t want to sleep with him.

“Okay. I’m exhausted. I know it’s early but I kinda want to get to bed now.”

Steve looks him up and down. Bucky’s dressed in a bathrobe but still feels naked under the scrutiny. “In a minute. I kinda wanna dirty you up again. Show you what exhausted actually means.”

Bucky’s jaw drops as Steve makes his way over to the doorway where he stands. He’s pulled along by the hand, unable to come up with a question or comment or refusal or anything. 

Steve throws open the robe and pushes him down onto the bed. Then he climbs in between Bucky’s thighs and leans down to whisper, “Hey, you remember what I said earlier?” 

Bucky just nods dumbly. Steve’s fingers circle his hole; he feels it clench in anticipation. 

“I hope you’re ready for this, because you asked for it.”

And oh  _ god _ , Steve Rogers is going to kill him in the best possible way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I'm sorry it took so long. They fought me every step of the way with their stubbornness.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Steve spends most of the next day going over the checklist, learning through the myriad notations and comments all the things that Bucky enjoys. Some of them surprise him, some of them are more extreme than Steve’s ever done, but much of it is expected given what he already knows.

A couple days later, he nearly bangs his head against the wall in frustration when Bucky refuses to discuss their options.

“I don’t wanna know what you’re gonna do.”

“Buck, that’s not how I operate. I’m not going to do some of these things to you without talking about them first. Especially things like suspension or gunplay. Those aren’t things you do without prior conversation.”

“Then we won’t do ‘em.”

Steve wants a punching bag. He considers telling Bucky he has no choice in the matter, but that’s the exact opposite of what he is trying to do here.

He clenches his jaw. “If I let you get away with it this time, you’ll know you can get away with anything you want.” After all, Steve might not consider himself Bucky’s master, but he sure as hell is his dom.

Bucky leans his forehead against Steve’s, twining their fingers together. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Sullen, then. Petulant.”

And then - ugh, that smirk again. Steve just can’t stay irritated when it comes to Bucky. “You’re such a pain in the ass, James Barnes.”

“Ooh, usin’ my full name now, huh?”

_“Bucky.”_

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I’ll mark off what’s okay to do to me in a first scene. You can pick from there. Sound like a compromise?”

Steve eyes him skeptically, but doesn’t put up an argument. “I suppose so.”

“Okay, good.”

As it turns out, there’s very little Bucky’s not willing to do in a first scene. Steve’s not going to push him, though, and only a small part of him is doing that to be _petulant_. He knows Bucky wants more, wants him to push it as far as he can take it, but that’s never a smart idea. Steve is experienced in this and knows better - definitely more so than Bucky, regardless of what Bucky wants to think.

His submissive is most certainly not complaining right now, though he is making a fuss in other ways. Bucky’d sworn up and down to Steve that he’s very obedient, but Steve’s very much doubting that right about now, the way Bucky’s filthy mouth is running.

To be fair, Steve’s got him in a very compromising position and is being delightfully mean.

He runs his fingers lightly along Bucky’s cock. Bucky arches up to try to get some more friction or pressure, anything at all, but Steve is a master at keeping it just this side of torturous. This sensual torture is one of his absolute favorite things to do.

Bucky lets out a low noise somewhere between frustration and desire. It’s right where Steve wants him. “Steve,” he groans, “you’re such a tease.”

“I know.”

“Please, I need more…”

Steve’s chuckle is dark, matching the deep shadows of their bedroom. “More what? I’m gonna need you to use your words, pal. You’re not very good at that, are you.”

The stimulation makes Bucky whimper. It’s music to Steve’s ears.

“More… more of you...”

Steve’s grin is downright evil when he realizes Bucky’s not capable of communicating what he wants right now. He’s already that far gone. It’s _perfect_ , exactly what he was looking for.

“Well, you’ve got all of me right now. I’m right here, aren’t I?”

“You know what I mean!” Bucky moans and throws his head back, struggling against the bonds, as Steve brings up his other hand to fondle Bucky’s balls in the same teasing manner as his cock. He’s got Bucky tied to his bed, ankles and feet locked in leather cuffs, spread apart and on display. It might be simple, but Steve is a simple guy.

“Do I?”

His hand brushes against the tip and Bucky really thrashes, like a shark caught in a tank. It was a good idea to tie him up. And here he thought Bucky would be obedient and stay still like he’d been asked. Tsk tsk.

“God, please, I need it, need you, more more _more_ \- “

Steve’s had enough. He leans forward and wraps a hand around Bucky’s neck, threatening with light pressure not unlike his grip below the belt. “You told me you were a good boy. Yet here you are telling me you need something when you very clearly don’t. You _want_ it, but you don’t need it. Am I right?”

The commanding tone of Captain America gets through to Bucky and his eyes widen. His cock jerks in Steve’s hand but he stays still. Finally.

“Good boy,” Steve soothes. “Don’t move and don’t talk for the next few minutes so I can enjoy myself, and then I’ll give you a reward. Sound good?”

It’s a test that Bucky passes. He nods and lays his head back on the pillow, sweaty brunet waves a mess across his forehead. Steve regretfully lets go of his neck. They’ll get to that little game another time.

He continues the teasing, enjoying Bucky’s reactions. The way his stomach muscles clench and relax as he tries to keep still. His breath coming in gasps and little moans and needy noises that defy definition. His obvious desire to plead for an end to the teasing warring with the need to obey. Steve loves all of it, loves him for being here and letting Steve do this to him.

Finally he tightens his grip. Bucky keens and his body jerks upward. Steve snickers and rubs him fast and hard, watching Bucky’s responses with interest, filing away what kind of strokes and touches make his toes curl for later reference. He watches as Bucky’s taken apart in his hands, not letting off even as Bucky gasps for breath and arches off the bed again. He aims Bucky’s cock toward his face when he comes, enjoying how a little bit of spunk hits his chin again. God _damn_ but the man can come hard.

“Oh God,” Bucky breathes. “That was… fuck.”

“Technically not. And I’m not done with you yet.”

Bucky sighs dramatically. “I can’t handle any more.”

“You’re lucky I’m not still touching you.”

Steve watches as Bucky’s big eyes fly open and stare at him in horror. “You wouldn’t!”

“As a matter of fact, I would. And will. Frequently.”

The curse he gets in response lights him up inside. Steve’s not much of a sadist - at least not in the traditional sense of the word - but there’s just something about making a submissive squirm with horrified arousal that is almost more satisfying than the sex itself.

He releases Bucky from his bonds, rubbing his wrists to triple check that the blood flow is good. Bucky hangs onto him adorably, a silent plea for Steve to wrap him up and keep him safe. Steve doesn’t even mind the fact that it gets semen on his nice collared shirt.

“Hey. Why are you still clothed?” Bucky complains into his neck.

“Because I like reminding you of your place. Why else would I be?” He kisses the top of Bucky’s head.

“Can I see you naked?” The shyness in Bucky’s voice makes Steve’s heart melt.

“Think you’ve earned that right?”

“Yes, sir. I was good, right?”

Steve snorts. “In the end, you were.”

“Well,” he tries to defend himself. “I… at least I was good then!”

“Oh, you were _good_ alright.”

Bucky groans. “Just why, Steve.”

“Hey, that was a pretty _good_ one.”

“Lord help me, I’m stuck with him, aren’t I?” Bucky, goddamn drama queen, looks up to the ceiling in supplication. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Just for that, I’m gonna make you come three times tonight.”

“Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Uh huh. We’ll see. I want you on your hands and knees now, facing the headboard. Wanna see what belongs to me.”

Bucky obediently moves into position, as graceful as Steve’s ever seen a man be. He arches his back a little to better show off the goods. Steve runs his hands over Bucky’s slender frame, awed by it. Once upon a time, he’d considered himself lucky to get a submissive half this good looking, and here he has this gorgeous creature who’s all _his._ He vows that no one else will ever see Bucky, _his_ Bucky, like this. No one but him.

Well, except the assholes who will do their assessment. But that doesn’t bear thinking about right now. Bucky deserves his full attention.

He spends a moment just staring at his submissive. Perfect sleek form, all power and grace. He bends in to inspect the little whorl of muscle between Bucky’s cheeks, and Bucky gasps when he blows air across it. He does his best not to move but still can’t help twitching. Steve is going to have to break him of that habit. Not tonight, though. Tonight, he intends to break Bucky down, absolutely ruin him so he can put him back together again. Rebuild him the way Steve wants him, shaking and crying with his face buried in Steve’s neck, held and loved. Like Steve is water in the desert. He needs that as much as Bucky needs to serve him.

He situates himself on his back comfortably between Bucky’s legs, spreading them out to the side so he can slide in between feet first and sit with his legs together, underneath Bucky, in order to have front row access to everything he wants to taste. He spreads Bucky’s ass cheeks and licks up and down the crack, tongue teasing Bucky in the same way Steve’s hands and fingers have been for the last hour or so. Bucky jerks forward, letting out a little _ah_ of surprise, but Steve is strong and Bucky doesn’t get very far. Steve moves his tongue down to Bucky’s hole, holding onto him tightly so he doesn’t try to escape again, and teases him there, too. Bucky tastes like heaven, though, and he can only wait so long before he absolutely has to lick Bucky open or go insane. He chides himself for chomping at the bit like this, but they’ve waited weeks - mostly because of Steve’s stubbornness - and it’s been weeks too long.

The sounds Bucky makes get louder and louder as his hole is loosened up. In only a few minutes, Steve is able to get his tongue all the way in, tasting the most intimate part of him. Steve’s own cock is rock hard and almost painful at this point, but he keeps going for as long as he can handle. Then he slides his finger in alongside his tongue, and Bucky nearly loses it. Steve senses him reaching down to rub his cock, but he swats the hand away and pulls back.

“Now, now. Did I say you could do that?”

“No, sir. But - “

“No _but._ I don’t want to have to punish you the first time we do this. Do you want that?”

He can hear Bucky swallow nervously. “No, sir.”

“Good. Hands off. You take what I give you, and you come only when I tell you to.”

Bucky puts his face down in the pillow and groans as Steve uses his fingers to open him up, though he’ll need to get lube in a few minutes if he wants to use more than two. Spit’s not enough for what they’re going to do, not with the size of his cock. He’s careful not to hit Bucky’s prostate, not wanting him to tip over the edge, or even feel too good just yet. Steve can get off several times in a night, and this first time is going to be pure service. Bucky’s just a warm, wet hole for him to use. The thought makes him reach down to grasp the base of his cock. Getting off without even being inside Bucky would be a little ridiculous at this point. Not to mention embarrassing. Fuck, but he even _smells_ delicious, and that is not something Steve’s willing to examine about himself just yet.

The bedroom itself smells like sex and sweat, and Steve is honestly in heaven, a place he hasn’t been to in a long time. He undresses quickly in a haze of lust and affection. It’s domspace, and he knows he has to be careful with it because Bucky would let him get carried away and never complain. Hell, he’s pretty sure Bucky _wants_ him to get carried away. Beyond the limits of what Steve considers safe at this stage in a relationship. He’s starting to get a sense for how Bucky operates, as well as why he rated as a beta.

Once Steve deems Bucky ready, he presses Bucky’s face down into the pillow with one hand and arranges the angle of his hips with the other, then leans over to whisper in his ear.

“Now you’re gonna lie still, and you’re gonna take it. I’m not going easy on you, and I do have a lot of strength and stamina, if you’ll recall.”

Bucky lets out a long, low moan, and Steve briefly thinks he should bake his neighbors some cookies. ‘Captain America disturbs neighbors with new submissive’ is going to be tomorrow’s big news headline if he’s not careful.

_Fuck being careful. He’s mine and I’m going to do whatever I want to him._

“You’re a little hole for me to fuck right now, do you understand me?” Steve grabs his hair tightly. Bucky’s body practically vibrates with need.

He waits until Bucky’s able to mumble out a “yes, sir” before pressing into him, body tight up against his back, breath in his ear. He doesn’t give Bucky time to relax, to accept his size and pace, and so Bucky’s voice goes all high-pitched when he moans, and it’s the _hottest fucking thing_ Steve’s ever heard. It’s now his goal to hear that sound again and again, tonight and for the rest of his life. Bucky’s so hot and tight and velvety smooth inside, Steve takes barely three minutes to get off, gasping loudly with the searing pleasure of his orgasm, along with the feeling of satisfaction he can only get with a hard fucking like this.

The best thing about the whole situation - and there are a lot of awesome things about it - is that Bucky never had a chance of getting off. All he could do was lie back and take it. It’s been forever since Steve’s had a submissive who was strong enough (and selfless enough) to handle that.

“Hey, you did good, I’m real proud of you,” he murmurs into Bucky’s hair as he’s coming down from the high. They’re both breathing hard even though Steve did all of the physical work. He dismounts and wraps his arms around Bucky from behind, so that they’re lying sideways on the bed, back to chest. Bucky sighs contentedly, and Steve chuckles. He’s far from through. In fact, he’s already getting hard again thinking about what he’s gonna do next.

Super soldier serum for the win.

“Hope you’re ready for more,” he tells Bucky cheerfully, and Bucky turns his head just enough for Steve to read _are you kidding me_ in his eyes _,_ because he can feel how hard Steve is already. Steve leans over to kiss him and whispers, “Told ya I was gonna make you get off over and over. I wasn’t kidding.”

Bucky shivers in his arms. Really, he should know by now that Captain America keeps his promises. Steve is pleased to notice that Bucky is pliant underneath him; he situates them so that Bucky’s on his back and Steve’s leaning over him once again. Bucky’s looking at him with blown, hazy eyes and it’s - god, it’s like the storm that blew through days ago is pulsing through Steve’s veins. He wants to eat this man until he begs him to stop.

Steve notices he’s staring when Bucky risks meeting his eyes and murmurs, “What do you want me to do, sir?”

_God, all of it, everything, make me feel good, baby._

“Get up.”

Bucky instantly responds to his commanding voice; he follows Steve to his feet, cock at half-mast and rising. Steve motions for him to raise his hands above his head, then pulls a long piece of rope down from the ceiling to hold them together by the D-rings on the wrist cuffs. He pulls on the other end and secures it to the bed frame. Bucky stares like he had no idea that was even there. His fault for not paying attention.

Steve commands Bucky to tell him if his arms start to hurt, then grabs specially made rope from his toy chest and shows it to Bucky.

“This stuff won’t chafe; it’s specifically for bondage. Have you ever used it before?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Use your words, Buck,” Steve chides.

“No, sir.”

“Okay. I’m gonna tie you up now. Just try to relax, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer. Steve just plans to do a simple Shibari-style design, but even that takes several minutes, and his cock is already painful at the thought of Bucky vulnerable and helpless for him like this. It’s gonna be awhile before he gets off, so he wants to get on with it as quickly as possible. The rope slides gently over Bucky’s skin as Steve crosses it over his chest, and Bucky hisses in pleasure at the contact, eyes closed in ecstasy. Steve wants to tie his cock and balls together, tightening it just that little bit, just on this side of uncomfortable, but that’s a plan for another day. Today’s plan is simple.

The last thing to do is blindfold Bucky, whose eyes widen when he sees what Steve is doing. Steve raises his eyebrows in question, and Bucky nods his head frantically in response. Steve bites his lip and notices those grey-blue eyes following the motion, dumbly staring at him. He smirks before putting the thick padding over Bucky’s eyes. Buck tries to lean forward to catch his lips, but there’s no way Steve’s gonna give that to him right now. He likes to see Bucky frustrated and desperate.

He uses different implements to torture his submissive, and Bucky responds to each beautifully. The flogger that he uses first is made of a light leather material; it’s meant for a warm-up and doesn’t even leave marks, but Bucky’s skin is flushed pink and his nipples and cock are fully hard by the time he’s through. Steve only flogs his back, but it’s too much fun to walk all the way around him and run his fingernails down random parts of his body. _Entirely_ too much fun, especially with the way Bucky’s mouth hangs open just a tad, those plush lips just begging him for a kiss. It’s fucking _obscene_ , is what it is.

Steve moves to the crop next. It makes Bucky moan, soft stuttering noises interspersed with occasional heavy exhales, usually when Steve scores a particularly mean hit to his sit spot, that place right at the top of Bucky’s thighs where the skin is most sensitive. His backside is starting to turn red where Steve hits him; the marks fade quickly, but when he pulls out the strap they start to lay in thick, more permanent patches across his ass and thighs. Bucky, for the most part, stands stock still despite the noises and twitches his body makes. Only on the hardest hits with the belt does he jerk at all, and even then, he quickly gets back into the position Steve put him in. Steve is so, _so_ proud of him.

When he’s sweating a bit from all the work, he moves around to stand in front of Bucky. Predictably, Bucky looks fucked out, covered in sweat and come from earlier with his head lolling to one side and the biggest fucking grin on his face. His blindfold is soaked with either sweat or tears, so Steve removes it carefully; Bucky’s eyes are closed and he looks more at peace than Steve’s ever seen him.

Steve knows the feeling.

He kisses Bucky, pouring into it all the passion inside of him, showing Bucky without words exactly how much of a good boy he is. Bucky sighs and lays his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve can smell the sweat of his armpits. He wants to lick them clean.

Bucky’s legs tremble when he’s released from the bonds, but Steve expects it and is there to catch him. He lifts Bucky up and carries him back onto the bed, lies beside him, and pulls Bucky’s head onto his shoulder.

“How you doin’, baby?”

“‘M fine,” Bucky slurs.

“You keep forgettin’ to call me ‘sir,’ and I’m gonna have to punish you.”

Bucky giggles, and Steve can’t help but smile indulgently even though Bucky can’t see him with his eyes closed. “‘M still leakin’ your come, Stevie. Makes me so happy. Sir.”

Steve plants a kiss to his temple and holds onto him tightly. God, this is _his_ , and it’s beyond what he deserves. There are so many things the two of them will do together, so many ideas floating around in his head. Sex, yes, but other things, too. Rules, protocols - even outside of what the assessment dictates. He can already tell that there’s so much potential in Bucky. Despite his occasional brattiness, which only serves to make Steve feel even more fond. Even more in love with him.

He sighs, tamping down that thought. His next concern needs to be whether or not Bucky can handle any more tonight, not whether or not he’s crazy to be falling in love after a month of being a couple. As he’d originally thought, Bucky likes to bite off more than he can chew. It’s a damn good thing he’s got Steve. The potential for abusing Bucky’s trust is huge.

“You think you can handle another round?” he murmurs into Bucky’s sweaty temple. Bucky nuzzles closer into his neck and sighs. “I know you think that’s an answer, Buck, but it isn’t. I need a ‘yes’ or I’m calling it a night.”

Bucky blearily opens his eyes and looks up into Steve’s face. “Fuck you,” he says, but it’s full of affection.

Steve chuckles. “You can’t even move, let alone try something like that. And after just one orgasm tonight! I thought you were sturdier than that, you punk.”

Bucky gives a long-suffering sigh. “ _Why_ did I get stuck with you?” he whines. It makes Steve laugh; he’s giddy and floaty after working Bucky over, and he’s head-over-heels for this man.

“What’s your answer, Buck?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky murmurs quietly into his neck. “Or green, if you prefer. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Mmm. Maybe what I want is for you to come until you cry. Ever think of that?”

Bucky makes a sound like a door creaking open. “Why are you so mean?” He winces as he adjusts his hips, unconsciously slotting them against Steve’s, pulling Steve fully on top of him again. It’s because of his sore ass, of course, and the strap marks that will still be there three days from now. Steve didn’t exactly hold back much, at least in terms of hitting a person with normal strength. Truth is, Bucky’s been pretty deep tonight, and Steve wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t want to get off again or keep playing.

“Just relax,” Steve murmurs against his lips. He scoots down the bed, foregoing any foreplay in favor of giving Bucky the most pleasure possible. No more teasing. Bucky’s right - he’s been mean enough tonight.

Bucky’s only a little bit hard at this point, but when he realizes what Steve’s about to do, he perks up quickly. He’s barely drawn breath before Steve’s sucked his rapidly hardening cock down, suckling it like he would a nipple. Steve runs his tongue flat across the head, and Bucky’s back arches. He gasps when Steve laps up the precome as it starts to bead at the tip.

Steve lifts his head up from between Bucky’s legs and grins lasciviously. “This is the most delicious cock I’ve ever tasted.”

Bucky stares at him in shock, pupils blown and looking absolutely broken. “Jesus…”

“Nah, told you, Jesus ain’t here. Lay back and let me take care of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky responds, still reeling.

Steve continues breaking him. It doesn’t take long at all for his talented tongue to bring Bucky right to the edge - but he doesn’t let him come. He keeps it going for as long as he can, doing wicked things with his tongue and swallowing around Bucky’s cock in his throat to bring him close, then pulling back and tightening his hand around the base of it when he’s _too_ close.

Bucky’s thrashing wildly after awhile, having been brought to the edge countless times, and Steve makes a plan to keep Bucky tied down until he learns better than to struggle like this.

“God, I need it, Steve, fuck…” He trails off, out of breath, gasping for air.

Steve sits up and scratches his nails down Bucky’s cock. Bucky makes an embarrassingly high pitched noise that Steve absolutely adores. “I told you, you don’t need it. You want it. I’m going to have to teach you that lesson, you know.”

Bucky continues struggling, but despite his words, Steve is a softie. He gives Bucky what he wants, a hot mouth and a climax that pulls his hips all the way off the bed. Steve lets him fuck his mouth to oblivion as he gets off, and is amazed as always how much Bucky comes. Even after having gotten off a couple of hours ago. He doesn’t have Steve’s stamina, but nobody else does, either. It’s impressive anyway.

Bucky is absolutely and utterly done when Steve wraps him up in his arms. He’ll have to get water and get them cleaned up soon, but for right now, he just wants to be here with his submissive. Now that they’ve finally started this part of their relationship, he never wants to let go.

And he won’t, that’s for damn sure. No matter what happens at the assessment. He’ll take Bucky and run if it comes to that.

And Hydra? They’re all but forgotten.

Fuck, Steve’s gone on him… and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we finally get into some of the kinky fun...


	8. Chapter 8

 

“Okay, what the fuck, Cap?”

“Hello to you too, Tony.”

As usual, Tony plows ahead like a freight train. “I just need to wrap my head around this. I leave for Miami for a week, and I come back and Clint’s in the hospital, Nat needs new knives because she inexplicably lost hers in the sewers, and - lo and behold! - Steve Rogers has quit Captain America! Can Steve Rogers quit Captain America? I mean, he kind of _ is _ Captain America. Y’know, made of apple pie and homemade goodness. Makes no sense. You can’t just  _ do _ that.”

“I needed to make a point, Stark. It’s probably not permanent.”

“ _ Prob-? _ Jesus. You really fucking went and did it, didn’t you.”

Bucky, fresh out of his shower and wearing the most luxurious towel this side of the Mississippi, wraps his arms around Steve from behind. Steve feels the tension in his shoulders relax as Bucky squeezes him and breathes hot on his neck. 

He sighs in bliss, but of course, Tony takes it for exasperation. “Goddammit, Rogers, we need you here. And I’m not sure the government wouldn’t come after you anyway. You need our protection.”

The tension comes back; this is a familiar argument for them. “I’m not the property of the United States government, Stark.”

“They might disagree.”

“They can try.”

Stark sighs on the other end, and it’s  _ definitely _ exasperation now. “You know you’re only one man, right? As much as you love rushing into trouble-”

“Hey, I resent that!”

“- the way you’ve always done, you can’t do it on your own. We’re here for you, and SHIELD can kiss our asses if it’s what needs to happen - if you absolutely have to have some time off - but I want you at the Tower. And we really, really need you on the team. Even if it’s just part time. And you need it, too. Will you at least think about it?”

_ Hard to think about anything when you won’t shut up, Tony. _

Ugh. “Stark, I have thought about it. A lot. I just… I guess I need time. Can you give me that? Some time away to think about my options. Spend some time in Brooklyn. Try to find my roots again. Surely some of that you can understand?”

“Well, Cap, I’m not sure what kind of options you’re really lookin’ at here, but sure. I’ll be in contact next week, though. Please take care of yourself. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“There’s like, literally nothing you wouldn’t do, Tony.”

“Hmm. You know what I mean.”

_ Half the time, I really don’t. _

“Yep. Later.”

“ _ Ciao! _ ”

The phone slips through his fingers like it’s useless as Steve turns around and picks Bucky up effortlessly. Just being around Bucky makes him feel like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Young love, he supposes. Right now, he doesn’t feel ninety-seven. He feels his biological twenty-six years.

He carries Bucky right through the sun spot, that spot where the light hits him just right, makes him such a painfully gorgeous sight that Steve nearly drops him. He feels like, if this were the ‘30s, just looking at Bucky would give him an asthma attack. All the subtle colors in Bucky’s hair pop, brown with traces of black and even a little red and gold if the light shines on it just right. 

And his eyes, _ fuck _ , his eyes. Grey-blue, sometimes with a spot of green - it makes Steve’s stomach ache when he thinks about it sometimes. Like sunlight on still waters, those depths. How the fuck did this happen? Little over a month ago, Steve didn’t even know Bucky Barnes existed. Now he’s seriously considering leaving the Avengers over him. 

As if sensing his thoughts, Bucky speaks up. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Do you want to do that or do you want me to take you to the bedroom and fuck you silly?”

Bucky cocks his head as though he were considering it. Steve scoffs at the adorable little scrunched up face he makes. “I mean, why not both?”

“I’m gonna put you down, but you better be quick. Got some good dickin’ to give you.”

Here’s the point where Bucky expresses confusion over his decision to leave the Avengers, even if only temporarily, because of him. And Bucky doesn’t disappoint.

“So, why are you doing this? Is it just over me, really? Because Steve, I can tell you I don’t want you to have to do that.”

“Buck, look. You’re fine when I’m here, and even if I worked like a normal person you’d be okay, I’m sure. It’s just that, with this job, I’d have to be gone regularly, sometimes for weeks at a time. And I can’t leave you hangin’ like that. You’re my submissive.” They’re pressed up close to each other on the couch. He bumps his knee against Bucky’s.

“I don’t want you to have to just lounge around with me all day long just because you feel sorry for me.”

Steve’s floored. “What? I’m not doing this out of obligation, Buck. I’m here because I want to be here. Hell, I’ve been happier these last few days than I have been since… well, since before the serum, maybe. Or ever.”

Now it’s Bucky’s jaw that drops. “What are you saying, Steve?” he whispers.

“I’m saying that you’re worth it to me, Buck. That this is my decision to make, and I’m choosing you.”

“Over the world.”

“Over the world.”

“Steve, I can’t let you do that.”

“Well, Bucky, you don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

“Hmm. Well, maybe I won’t put out, then.” Bucky sticks out his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Like you could even handle that, you big horndog.”

“That’s mean to say!”

“It’s also true.”

“I can’t believe it. Steven Grant Rogers is a big bully.”

“A bully who is in charge of you. Now get in the bedroom before I have to get my belt out.”

“Ooh. You promise?”

“I swear to god, Bucky Barnes-”

“Alright, alright! I’m goin’.”

 

Of course, Stark is hardly the only Avenger concerned about Steve’s safety. It isn’t until the rest of the team shows up that the truth comes out. And then everyone’s up in arms, grilling Steve like the bunch of assholes they are. Bucky shies away from them like an abused dog. 

Fuck, all he’d wanted was a nice, quiet evening indoors with his submissive. Now he can’t even enjoy his company because all these jackasses couldn’t possibly accept that Captain America might be tired of being Captain America.

“I knew this was a bad idea, Steve,” Nat says, and Clint kicks her. 

“What the hell, Romanov? You mean you _ knew? _ ” 

Nat gives him a pointed look. She doesn’t seem that fired up, but with Natasha, looks can be deceiving.  _ Really _ deceiving.

“I knew, yeah. Didn’t really think he’d end up doing something as crazy as quitting, though.”

And then -  _ Jesus _ \- it turns out even Bruce is against him. 

“Look, man, I get it. I do. If I could stop being the other guy, drop it completely? I’d do it in a heartbeat. But the truth is that people like you, people like us, the government doesn’t want us runnin’ around out there. We’re national security risks, Rogers. You’ve gotta either make sure you’re on top of being a superhero, or you have to live with us at the Tower where you’re protected. You’ll never be able to walk around like a normal human being. That was never in the cards for you, and I’m sorry for that, but it’s true.”

“Just why the hell would the government even care?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Natasha interjects. “Does the word ‘serum’ mean anything to you?”

“What the hell good am I going to do them? It’s not like I know anything about how it works. I have zero helpful information to give them.”

“Steve, don’t you realize they’ve been trying to make new serum ever since you came out of that Vita Ray machine some seventy years ago?”

“I don’t see what that really has to do with me.”

Natasha and Bruce share _ A Look _ , the one that means they both want to bang their heads against the wall. Steve is either being frustrating, or stubborn, or just outright dumb as a box of bricks. Definitely the third right now ‘cause he’s not gettin’ it.

“Steve,” Natasha starts, speaking to him like he’s five years old. “There are people in the government who view you as their property. Really, seriously do. I know you don’t get how people can be that way, because bless your heart, you’re as pure as the sun.” Clint makes a face behind her. “Those people are not like you, Steve. They don’t have your moral compass. They  _ will  _ come after you. Your blood, your tissue, your organs. All of it.”

“Yeah, man, Stark’s been tryin’ to get you to come to the Tower anyway. You’re not safe out here,” Clint says.

“In my own home in Brooklyn, I’m not safe from the government?” 

“How do you not get this, Rogers?” Natasha’s let her frustration seep into her voice now; that means she’s probably seething on the inside. “They’re going to come and get you, and they’ll run experiments on you. The Russians are not the only people who do things like that, you know.”

He meets her eyes, acknowledging the horrific things that had happened to her in the past at the hands of the Soviets. And he knows the United States government is no different, not really. People in power always like to abuse their power. 

He sighs. “Guys, I really appreciate this. I do. But I need to take a step back for awhile. Since I came out of the ice, I guess I’ve just been running like a headless chicken, trying to find a place here. You know how hard it’s been for me; I know you all do because I get nagged constantly about taking better care of my mental health. Well, here I am. Taking care of my mental health. I need time off, and I’ve got a damn good reason to take it even if it weren’t for that.”

“Holy hell, Rogers, don’t get me started on that, either,” Nat says, narrowing her eyes. “A beta. I like the guy, and I think he’d be good for you otherwise, but are you getting an idea about just how much responsibility that is?”

Steve squares his jaw and stands to his full height, feeling the adrenaline start to pump. Not this. They’re not doing this. “His name is Bucky, and he’s not my _ beta _ .”

“Law ain’t gonna see it that way, man,” Clint says.

“Yeah, so you get the point. I have to protect him, so I can’t be part of the Avengers. So sad.”

“With the sass, man, Jesus,” Clint mumbles.

“Besides that… we were at the Battle of New York. An alien civilization attacked humanity. Literal gods exist. Nowhere’s safe. Not for me, not for any of you.”

Clint frowns. “So what you’re saying is ‘why worry?’”

“Yeah, kind of.”

“More my kind of philosophy, honestly, you guys.”

He thanks the Lord for Clint Barton.

Nat shakes her head. “You know what else is out there, Steve. The file. Don’t think they won’t be coming after you, too,” she hisses. “I’m getting you protection detail, Rogers. They are  _ going _ to come for you. There are many people out there who’d do anything to get a shot at you. You once wanted to be a soldier so much you were willing to die for it. Don’t throw it away for nothing.”

He growls, startling all of them. “Don’t refer to him as  _ nothing _ .”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Except yeah, it is, and they all know it.  _ Bucky’s not worth it _ , they say without words.  _ The world is more important _ , they say.

What about him, though? What about what’s important to  _ him _ ?

 

When the Avengers are gone, Bucky comes out of hiding, slinking around like a cat in a strange room. He looks at Steve with sorrow in his eyes.

“I told you. I’m not worth it, Steve. They know it.”

“They’re wrong.”

Bucky huffs a sad laugh as he climbs onto Steve’s lap, making himself at home. “I know I can’t convince you otherwise. I’m not gonna try. I just want you to show me how to make it all perfect for you. Whatever life you choose, I want to be here to make it everything you deserve.”

_ The only thing I want is you. _

Out loud, he says, “I appreciate that. But there’ll be time for it. We’ve got an appointment of our own with the government pretty soon.”

Bucky groans, and not in the good way. “Fuck. Stupid. It’s stupid shit.”

“I agree, but like you said before, we don’t have a choice in the matter.”

Suddenly, Bucky’s eyes widen. His pupils dilate a little bit, like he’s aroused. Or afraid. “What if they decide to get back at you for quitting by failing us? What would we do then?”

Steve wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist. “Go on the run. Live somewhere else.”

“You’d do that for me?”

_ God, _ this guy. “I’d do anything for you, James Buchanan Barnes,” he whispers, and kisses him. It’s slow and sensual and messy as hell. They pull back when they’re both out of breath, and Bucky leans his forehead against Steve’s, one of his favorite gestures of affection. 

“I can’t believe I’m here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here, either.”

“Take me to bed?”

“Absolutely.”

 

***

 

Even going to the Tower to drop off the shield is a pain in the ass. Tony grills him about his newfound love interest, of course, because he’s Tony, and because their friends don’t know how to keep their mouths shut. 

“So, Cap!” he yells the minute he sees Steve in the common area of the Tower. Steve sighs, mentally preparing himself for whatever it is that Tony wants. He really does care for Tony, but sometimes he can be too much. Often times, actually.

“There somethin’ I can help you with?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes, there is.”

Tony actually  _ slides _ down the banister from the kitchen like he’s five years old. Steve doesn’t think he had this much energy even when he was five. Then again, Steve had been sick most of that year. And every year after that, until the serum. After that, he was tired in a completely different way.

“So, you gonna tell me what it is, after you’re done being a child?” he asks once Stark’s standing in front of him.

“What, no hug? And just FYI, it’s better to be a child forever than a stuffy old great-grandpa like  _ some _ people around here.”

“One of us has to be a grown up.”

Tony considers him. The scrutiny makes Steve want to crawl in a hole, away from prying eyes.

“So why didn’t you tell me you had a sub? Oh, I’m sorry, I meant beta?”

“Because it was nobody’s business.”

“If it makes you quit the team? Everybody’s business.”

Steve shakes his head. Tony’s gonna pick at this like a scab, over and over again until it scars. How to get through to him? 

“My life is my fucking business, Stark. Please get your nose out of it.”

Tony’s head jerks backward. “Cussing at me? Really, Cap? Do you have it that bad for the boy?”

He grits his teeth. God, Tony can be insufferable. “He’s not a boy, Stark. He’s a man, with feelings and thoughts of his own.”

“Not what the law says.”

“FUCK THE LAW!” Steve shouts, and now everyone’s there, coming to see the fireworks. They’ll probably support Stark in this.

“You need to give this up. Send him to someone else. The work that we do here is too important, and we need you for it, and we need to keep you safe. It’s the right thing to do, Steve. How else do we keep things in line? We have to have rules. You won’t be doing him any favors by keeping him in danger just for being in your proximity.”

“Fuck your rules,” Steve growls. “I’ll leave this team for good right here and now if you don’t take it back.  _ For good  _ this time.”

Tony’s freaked out enough by the most angry version of Steve he’s ever seen that he backs up a little more, putting his hands up in a placating gesture. “Alright, alright. I’ll see what I can do to get the kid an unofficial position here. He can help out with things, maybe feel a little more useful while you’re gone. But please move to the Tower. Do that, at least. Your life is too important.”

Tony’s so sincere it makes his head ache. He really does want everybody to stay safe, to keep fighting. But he keeps seeing red, the flailing arms and the skull that harkens back to its original master, someone or something Steve had sacrificed his life to wipe from this world.

He closes his eyes, prays for strength, and opens them again. “I’ll do it, move here, but not yet. I told you guys I needed time. This is just self-care. Being here, even on some kind of leave, is not going to be good for my psyche right now. I’ve needed this for awhile. Since I came out of the ice, really. Please try to understand that.” He gives Natasha a pointed look, and she grudgingly nods.

“Alright,” the Widow says. “But protection detail. Known loyal SHIELD agents only. Deal?”

“Deal,” he says, relieved. “Give me a month and a half. Two months. I want to get this assessment over with.” His mouth twists into a grimace. He can’t stand the looks of pity on everyone’s faces. 

That’s that, then. Time to go home and be with the man he loves.

 

*******

 

Steve senses rather than sees the SHIELD agents following him. It’s an irritant but a good compromise; at least he knows they’re both safe until after the assessment is done. It’s hard to admit, but the rest of the Avengers might be right about this. Will the government really let him quit? There are probably people who are just waiting for him to give up the shield, to be vulnerable, to stop being America’s favorite hero. Maybe they’ll make him into a villain. Any excuse to lock him up or do… who knows what… to him.

The other threat is unthinkable. He still staunchly refuses to believe it’s true. But, given the circumstances, there’s no way he won’t have to dig through it. For better or worse, Hydra is back in his life. 

Alone like this, he can exhaust himself - and then he’ll come home to dinner and a kneeling submissive and everything that is  _ Bucky _ and his newfound happiness. 

Steve’s exhausted as hell and feeling a little euphoric when he rounds the corner to his apartment, but he can tell immediately that something’s wrong. He’s too far away to see exactly what home the cop cars are surrounding, but there’s no doubt in his mind it’s his own. And the only thing flashing through his mind now is  _ Bucky Bucky Bucky! _

He puts on a burst of speed and makes it to the apartment in record time. The agents let him upstairs, giving him sympathetic looks; he doesn’t need to see it to know that Bucky’s gone - not just gone, but taken, hurt, or killed. 

They - whoever they are - took Bucky, poor, innocent Bucky. In place of Steve? To get back at Steve? It doesn’t matter. Bucky deserves a million times better than this. 

Rage comes over him, rage like Steve’s never known before. He loses it. The dishes on the counter, the non-dishwashable ones Bucky had so painstakingly set there, go flying off of it and into the kitchen, clattering on the floor. The chairs at the breakfast bar get thrown so hard they break. He lifts the coffee table in the living room and smashes it against the ground, glass falling into the carpet beneath him, death by a thousand cuts. The remains of Natasha’s vase lay smashed amongst the pieces.

Finally, Steve falls to his knees and weeps. He’d finally found the person he wanted - needed - as a partner, and lost it already. 

And it’s all his fault for being such a stubborn ass.


	9. Chapter 9

Bucky gains awareness slowly. His body is on fire and desperately trying to get his attention, but it takes a minute for his brain to power on. 

Turns out, he’s drowning - but not in any conventional sense. The sea is made of glass but he’s somehow  _ drowning _ in it. It crinkles, drives deep into his skin, and it feels like… an omen, maybe, except omens don’t burn and scrape and poke. His left arm seems to be taking the brunt of it, but when he looks at it, it’s not bleeding. There’s no glass in him, even though he can feel it and see it surrounding him, and nothing makes any goddamn  _ sense. _ The sky is grey and pregnant with rain clouds one moment, and clear as the desert sun the next. Bucky’s eyes and brain hurt from trying to keep track of it. In fact, everything hurts.

Slowly, he becomes aware of what’s lurking underneath the sea’s surface. It’s not a shark or a whale, nothing tangible that can reach up and grab him and pull him under while he thrashes around, trying to get away like some dumb  _ Jaws  _ extra. It’s an eldritch horror that drives him a little batty just looking at it. A serpent, perhaps, or a giant octopus, tentacles grabbing at him from seemingly everywhere. Sometimes it has a soldier’s face: blank, with a black face mask and an unbroken stare that looks eerily like his own, grey-blue eyes included. Sometimes it’s Steve’s face, cycling through sad and angry and - the worst, somehow - disappointed. 

He struggles to get away from it, sliding and crinkling through the glass that stabs him and yet doesn’t all at once, but he knows it’s useless. The tentacles of the Steve-faced octopus snatch him and start to drag him under. Its suckers pinch his skin and suck something out of him - his soul, he thinks - and with his last breath, Bucky screams in horror and pain.

And as he finally drowns, it occurs to him: a sea of glass is supposed to be calming, a safe place in a storm, somewhere with a harbor and a view that is unbroken by these shards of terror. Where did it all go wrong?

 

***

 

He’d thought he wanted to wake up. Waking up should’ve been preferable to the strange clouds and glass and sea creature that haunted his dreams, but nope - turns out that even nightmares are better than reality. This reality, at least. The pain hasn’t gone away; in fact, it’s intensified tenfold. And it’s definitely his left arm, which feels like it was crushed rather than cut. 

Bucky doesn’t dare open his eyes to see the mess. Whatever is there, he’d rather blissfully pretend it doesn’t exist. Or at least pretend. There’s no bliss to be found here.

He awakens in the same manner as the dream: slowly and with reluctance, despite the pounding of adrenaline rushing through him. He’s tied with ropes at the ankles and wrists, which is normally not even close to a bad thing, although he’s pretty sure it’s a bad sign now. The left wrist is potentially broken along with the rest of the arm; in fact, this feels more painful than any broken bone he’d ever had as a kid, and he’d had a lot of them. He tries not to think about that as he assesses the rest of his body. Once he’s certain there are no other injuries to his person, Bucky listens for a clue as to his location. 

There’s no way he can avoid opening his eyes now, because just like the dream, nothing makes sense. It feels less like floating or even drowning in an ocean; rather, it’s like he’s tied to a giant vibrator that’s bouncing him up, down, and sideways just enough to be uncomfortable. There’s a dull roar surrounding him, and he’s not sure if it’s his head or something else, perhaps said vibrator. If it  _ is _ a giant vibrator, he’s really fucking lost it. He’s tied up, but not strapped down or blindfolded, so he blinks back to reality slowly to protect his eyes.

Bucky’s on a bunk bed, facing a doorway. There’s a wall to his left side and a window on the right. Outside the window, trees fly past, faster than they’ve any right going. At first, he thinks maybe they’re in a van. There’s something at the edge of his memory about a van, like there was an accident and that’s how he’d gotten his arm - fuck, the  _ arm! _ \- hurt. But he’s not in a van. It’s a train car. He’s on a train.

Steeling himself, Bucky looks down at the arm tied in front of him, and then he freezes. It’s mangled, bruised purple, and potentially infected. He has no idea how long he’s been out, hardly remembers anything that happened for a long while before this. There was a man, and he was the sun. Golden. Blond. Looked like a goddamn angel. Was his name Steve? Yeah, that sounds right. Steve, then. He was taken from Steve by whoever has him tied up. 

Bucky weighs his options. He could roll himself onto the floor, which would accomplish nothing except putting him in a lot more pain than he is already - and he’s in enough that he can barely think. The ties that bind him are exceptionally strong, and that left arm is incapable of doing much more than screaming in a language Bucky wishes he’d never known. He has no viable options except to wait and see who has taken him captive. And to hope against hope that they’ll be kind to him from this point on, though he has a sinking feeling that that’s unlikely.

He drifts in and out of consciousness, thankful for breaks from the waking world because  _ fuck _ does his arm hurt like a bitch. Unfortunately, it takes several hours - or several days, Bucky’s not sure - for his captors to come to him. When they do, they speak Russian and don’t pay him any mind, gesturing wildly at his mangled arm and yelling at each other. Bewildered, Bucky just lies there in exhaustion. 

A squat German man wearing greasy glasses finally enters the car and snaps something unintelligible, and the two Russians who have been cursing each other’s parents (for all Bucky knows) shut up and nod their heads in deference to the newcomer. Bucky immediately gets a psycho vibe from the guy, who stares at him like he’s a new species that has yet to be catalogued. He gulps in terror, feeling the pulse in his neck pound hard enough to drive the spikes of a headache deep into his skull. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the German says in heavily accented English, and  _ oh boy _ if Bucky wasn’t terrified before, he is now. This guy doesn’t just look psycho, he sounds it, too. “We’d like to welcome you to our program. The procedure is a simple one, though it is experimental. But you are fit and perfect for the role of a Winter Soldier. We wanted Captain America, of course, but you were just in the right place at the right time. We can work with you, James Buchanan. And Rogers will be right there with you as soon as we capture him, do not worry your head about that. I wouldn’t want to part the two of you, after all, considering how well you work together. He’ll just have to be your handler, and you his watchdog.” He gives Bucky a self-satisfied smirk. Bucky wants to throw up. Has this guy been watching them somehow? How does he figure they ‘work well together’? 

“Now, Mr. Barnes, the first part is going to be rather… unpleasant. Rest assured, we will knock you out for it. Most of it. And after, you’ll have a new arm! Brand new, can you imagine?”

Bucky does throw up then, barely turning himself so that it goes over the side of the bunk instead of getting caught in his throat. The other men just watch him in silence, uncaring for his plight, though Mr. Creep seems fascinated by the display. Once he’s done, at least the creep walks forward and lets Bucky take a sip of water from the pouch on his belt. He hadn’t even realized how parched he was.

_ Steve, _ he thinks. _ I want Steve.  _

It looks like Steve’s in trouble, too, though. Some bad shit is going down here. Bucky feels at a loss to define it; he just hopes Steve came home from his run quickly and is now giving chase. If not, Bucky’s fucked.

 

***

 

He dreams of falling into a volcano. 

 

***

 

When Bucky awakens, it’s mid-surgery. His entire left side feels like it’s covered in lava - ah,  _ there’s  _ the volcano - and his voice is hoarse; he’s pretty sure this room was filled with his screams well before he actually woke up. Can someone scream in their sleep or under anesthesia? 

Doesn’t matter anyway, because he’s sure as fuck screaming now.

His head moves like lead, but Bucky’s still able to look down far enough to realize that his  _ entire fucking shoulder _ is gone, replaced by bits of metal wire that are being capped onto his  _ raw fucking nerves _ , and that’s it - the anesthesia might have worn off, but no one can stay awake through that. 

Though they’d said they were on the hunt for Steve, too. And if anyone could, it’d be him. His last thought is a prayer to whatever gods there might be that Steve stays away, that he stays safe. 

 

***

 

This time when he awakens, there’s a cocoon of cool numbness surrounding him. The lava is gone, and the pain along with it. He tries to avoid thinking about his shoulder, but Bucky is Bucky and that means he can’t help himself. 

The metal arm is unexpected. It responds to his commands, though, which is the main thing. He wants to try to fight his way out of this place. Maybe find Steve again. Hopefully he won’t find Steve here, though, unless it’s during some sort of rescue mission. But he has to get out, because this gets more and more shitty by the second.

Case in point: this room. 

He’s strapped down to a chair by his wrists, thighs, and ankles; there’s some sort of contraption above his head that looks a little like a hairdryer in a salon, though he’s certain that’s not what it actually is. There’s a bunch of medical equipment around that he can’t identify, and a long upright tube with a lot of complicated machinery attached to it on the other side of the room. What the fuck any of this signifies, Bucky’s got no idea, but it sure as fuck looks like a mad scientist’s playroom. He’s pretty sure it is, in fact.

He tries to control his breathing when three men in lab coats waltz in like they own the place, like they know their way around. And anyone who knows their way around this room is not someone he wants to see right now.

Surprisingly, they speak English with American accents. 

“Hey Johnson, we gotta do somethin’ with him. He can’t just sit around here,” one of the men, a frat boy type, says. Bucky’s afraid to discover what that  _ somethin’  _ would be.

“We had this discussion already, man,” replies the one with Coke-bottle glasses and red hair.  _ Nerd alert, _ Bucky’s mind helpfully supplies. “We wait for Rumlow. Put ‘im in a cell if you really need to.”

“Not what I meant, Johnson.” 

“You think he should go into cryo, then? ‘Til Rumlow arrives?”

“What other options do we have?” 

“Can’t do that yet,” Johnson responds in a flat voice. “It’s not even calibrated. Pierce would kill us if we damaged an asset before we could test it. And man, I don’t wanna be on the sour end of Alexander Pierce.” 

Okay, so, too many things are going on here for him to think. Cryo sounds… fucking cold. Numb, like his shoulder, but, like, his whole body. That doesn’t bode well, if he’s really underselling it. And Pierce, Alexander Pierce… where has he heard that name before?

The third guy, who until now had been watching the two of them with something akin to boredom, finally speaks up. “Do we know when Pierce or Rumlow will be here again?”

“Nah, man. Hard to get their schedules down,” the second guy - Johnson - says. 

“Right. Well. Pretty sure Rumlow will take a few more weeks. We gotta try cryo at some point, why not now?”

They turn to look at Bucky. Up until now, they’d paid him no mind, even though they likely knew he was awake. But now, Bucky’s a bug under a microscope. He thrashes - or tries to - in his bonds, terrified of this cryo thing and praying with all that he has for Steve to burst through the door, for Steve to rescue him. 

Frat Boy steps forward and gestures above Bucky. “You wanna wipe? We’ll give ya a wipe. That ain’t experimental anymore.”

A  _ wipe?? _ He looks up at the contraption above his head, whites of his eyes showing like a terrified horse. They can’t mean wiping his  _ mind _ , can they? There’s no way. No way in hell.

He forces himself to still. Cryo versus mind wipe. Seems like an obvious choice, but oh fuck, where is  _ Steve? _

“Nah, man, leave him alone,” Johnson says. Bucky’s pretty sure he’s the one in control of this ragtag group of… scientists? Doctors? Supervillains? Thank goodness. “We’ll put him in a cell and contact Rumlow. Put him back under just in case.”

Just in case what? Goddamn he wishes something would make some sense around here.

They adjust an IV that he hadn’t even realized was attached to him, and his last thought is of how fucking sick he is of sleeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. :( Bucky's havin' a rough go of it right now.


	10. Chapter 10

_These fuckers. These fucking idiotic fuckers,_ Steve thinks, and boy-oh-boy if Tony were in his head right now he’d be appalled. Mr. Apple Pie he isn’t, not right now. And frankly, Steve Rogers doesn’t give a flying fuck, as the saying goes.

“I’m going,” he grits out, talking to the leader of the SHIELD squad that was supposed to be protecting them, but who really just seems to be dilly-dallying. Still. Even after Bucky had been taken.

Steve thinks he might kill someone before the day is out.

“Captain Rogers, we’ve been given orders by Ms. Hill. You are compromised in this situation. Stand down.”

Steve eyes the three of them. Could he take them down without the shield? He could take down a platoon of men without the shield. Three SHIELD operators can’t stop him if he decides to join them. Or take over, for that matter.

“Fuck Maria. I’m going.”

Squad Leader Guy With The Scrunched Up Face steps back - Steve Rogers can be intimidating as hell when he’s angry, and goddammit is he good at being angry, even if he’s sick of it. That’s part of why he hung up the shield. Clearly though, that shield is permanently strapped to his back. So fuck it.

“Get in the car!” he barks, and is glad to see that even Hill’s people aren’t able to resist his commands. She’ll be pissed off later, but fuck her, too.

Here’s the thing about Steve: he’s a good guy. He’s compassionate and friendly, if a little shy. Sometimes he can be an asshole, but it’s always for a good cause. He believes in justice and in fighting for what is right.

But he’s learning that when you take what rightfully belongs to him - like, for example, the man that he loves - he wants to make sure you pay the price if you stand in the way. Especially since he needs to channel this self-flagellation he feels at getting Bucky kidnapped, at knowing this is all his fault, at never telling him how he felt. Fuck the fact that they barely know each other in some ways. Steve knows real love when he feels it; hell, his star-crossed relationship with Peggy Carter is the stuff of American legend at this point. He’s not going to feel silly or embarrassed about how he feels, not now. The instant he gets Bucky back, Steve’s gonna be honest about all of it.

But first, he’s gotta get him back.

He jumps into the driver’s seat of the black SUV. The last operative barely gets his feet into the vehicle before Steve takes off like a shot. Pudgy Little Turd Guy is in the passenger seat next to him and seems understandably uncomfortable, but this could be a matter of life and death, and they need a super soldier with superhuman reflexes at the wheel.

Super serum for the win again.

Steve grabs the radio from the dash. “Hill? Can you get me Fury on the line?”

Steve swerves through traffic, following the tracker planted in the other SHIELD vehicle. It’s stalled on Route 3 just off of 17 in - yuck, Jersey - which is either a really good sign or a really bad one. He needs to know immediately.

Maria’s exasperated voice comes over the comm link loud and clear. “Not even gonna ask me for a quick sitrep? Guess I’m chopped liver, huh?”

“Be quick. What’s going on with the other SUV?”

“Crashed into the van. They got away, slipped right through the cracks. We think there’s some advanced tech involved, teleportation maybe. He’s gone, Steve. We don’t know where.”

Son of a _bitch!_

He tamps down the panic, tries to disassociate from it. “What’s our plan?”

“We’re calling in Tony. He’s flying out to you as we speak.”

That’s good. Best he can hope for right now.

The crash site is a mess. NYPD is on the scene, as is Fire and Rescue; two operatives sustained injuries, and another is unconscious. The remaining two are standing around looking confused. Steve makes a beeline for them.

“What happened?” he asks in a no-nonsense tone. Their eyes widen when they see him. They were ultimately responsible for Bucky’s safety - behind Steve himself, of course - so this is understandably a little scary for them. “I’m not gonna sock either of you in the face. Just tell me what happened.”

“Well, sir, he just disappeared into thin air. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. We came to inspect the van, but there was nothing there, nobody inside it. But we know there was at least one driver and two passengers because there’s quite a bit of blood inside it.”

Steve feels his face go pale. _Bucky, what if Bucky’s hurt, in pain, dead -_

The arrival of Iron Man snaps him back to reality. He’s never been as glad to see Tony as he is right now. Tony zooms right for him and starts talking before his visor is even all the way up.

“I’ve got some good news and some bad news, Cap.”

“Tell me.”

“Which do you want first?”

“Stark.” He takes a deep breath and starts over. This is no time to get mad at the man - he was right from the get-go. “Tony. Just tell me.”

Tony eyes him sideways, no doubt thinking Steve Rogers is an idiot, because Steve Rogers _is_ an idiot. “Well, the good news is we know where he is. Double agent came forward from the ranks. Never thought I’d see the day. Guy said he wanted out, traded us information for witness protection. That’s scary stuff, Rogers. Wouldn’t want to be a spy, right? Shitty job. Great pay, but I like to be the center of attention. Well. You know how that feels, am I right?”

Steve puts his head in his hands. Fear, anger, panic… whatever this is now, this undefinable thing he feels around Tony… it’s too much. He’s tired already, even though he knows he’s not gonna sleep until Bucky’s back in his arms.

“Anywho. Bad news. Barnes is in Siberia.”

Steve’s jaw drops. Siberia?

“I can’t have heard that right. Did you say _Siberia_? As in, Russia? Freezing cold? Half a world away?”

“That’s right.”

He has no reason to doubt Stark, but even he’s gotta be skeptical on this one. “How is that even possible?”

“Linear radiation transporter linked to certain molecular processes. Takes you apart, puts you back together again somewhere else. Little like Star Trek but also kinda not. Really fantastic stuff, you’d love it. Or not, considering. I’m a little mad at myself for not thinking it up. Must be losing my touch. Or Bruce is; this is kind of his area of expertise.”

Steve throws up his hands. “How do we get my submissive back, Tony?”

“He’s a beta, Rogers, and to answer your question: quinjet. We leave as soon as I get you back to the compound. They don’t know we’re coming, so we’ve got the jump. Shall I take you myself?”

He’s not a fan of flying with Tony, but then again, he has jumped out of a plane without a parachute in the past. It’s not nerves per se, it’s more the fact that it’s, well, Tony.

“Take me.”

“You got it, Cap.”

The quinjet ride seems to take fifteen years. There’s nothing to do aboard, or rather, Steve can’t concentrate on anything but getting Bucky back. He paces the length of the lab, watching but not really seeing as Tony and Bruce look at 3D models of the experimental technology.

“Do we know who it is?”

“Nope. Even Mr. Whistleblower wasn’t sure; either that or he wasn’t telling us.”

“And your little mind-reading technology doesn’t work on that, I suppose?”

Stark gives him a confused look. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Steve sneers. He just can’t help himself. “Your stupid little assessment tools. Oh, right, they don’t actually work as advertised. You just like to tell yourself that they do because it strokes your ego.”

Bruce looks back and forth between them, appears to have a silent conversation with himself, and then gets up to leave. Stark stares after him longingly, undoubtedly wishing he’d trade places with Steve, but Steve barely pays attention.

“Rogers, it’s the law. I didn’t make the damn law, or the assessment tools.”

“No, but you sure did ‘improve’ them.”

“Tech is never going to be perfect, but this stuff works. Really. People are happy with it.”

“How the hell do you know that, Tony? You don’t live inside another person. And if you hadn’t made these things, we wouldn’t be in this position to begin with.”

The tension in the room grows thick; Stark’s about as good as Steve is when it comes to keeping his mouth shut in these situations. It’s part and parcel of their strange dynamic. “I told you to come to the Tower, didn’t I? This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just been there. You could’ve taken time off and everything, no problem.”

“Right. Because your security is as perfect as your stupid assessment tools. And did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be around for awhile? Like, physically gone?”

“Fuck, Rogers,” Tony hisses. “Get your head out of your ass. I can’t change the law, and I agree with it anyway -”

“How can you even-”

“- and besides that, I don’t wanna deal with your guilt over this. It’s making you lose sight of what we’re doing here, what the point is. You’re compromised, Cap. If it were up to me, you wouldn’t even be in on this operation.”

“You’d have to hold me in a special prison cell to keep me away from Bucky.”

“I know that. At this point, I do. I don’t understand it, but emotional attachments were never really my forte. Thanks, Dad! At any rate, it’s not my job to tell you what to do, but you’d better focus if you wanna get Bucky out of there alive. We don’t know who has him, we don’t know if it’s a trap, and we’re going in blind. It’s me, you, Hill, and Bruce. We’re down half the goddamn team and we don’t know what we’re up against. Get it together, Steve!”

Tony’s right again, of course. What’s worse, he called Steve by his first name, not ‘Cap’ or even ‘Rogers.’ That only happens when Tony’s feeling emotional, and that’s a whole other can of worms to avoid opening.

But Steve’s not gonna tell him he’s right. There’s a thing called pride that he’s never quite been able to let go of, despite the trouble it’s led him into. He leaves the lab and goes to pace the cargo hold. Thoughts and emotions swirl like unwanted spirits, leaving his brain feeling mushy, but maybe that’s for the best right now. Because Tony’s right. He’s compromised.

And he’s trapped in a life he doesn’t want while he’s at it.

 

Scans of the area show likelihood of some kind of air traffic control near the compound; there’s no way they can land the quinjet very close to the supposed base, which is actually a police outpost in the midst of Butt Fuck, Russia. Hill sets them down as close as possible, in a forest full of ice and trees, and they head the rest of the way on foot.

It’s freezing cold. Steve’s impervious to many things thanks to the serum, but he still feels like his balls are going to turn to icicles and just detach from his body, wham bam, thank you ma’am style. Straight up fall to the ground, or rather, into his uniform pants, which will then freeze around his dick and make it fall off, too. Even thoughts of Bucky aren’t enough to shake the feeling. And he’d thought the Alps were cold! Thankfully, between the four of them, they make it to within sight of the ‘station’ in record time, with Steve glaring at Iron Man in his climate-controlled suit the entire time.

Things get serious when they see the swarm of officers through their binoculars, patrolling the grounds - doing a poor job of it, considering the team has shit for cover just inside the tree line - and guarding the station. Whether this is a trap or not, there’s definitely something going on here that’s fishy. The thought of that ‘fishy’ having to do with Bucky sets Steve on edge.

Tony turns his head toward him with that faceplate that always gives Steve the creeps. “Alright, Cap. There’s about a million of them and four of us. Three of us are about as subtle as a hurricane. Hill has espionage training, but she’s not a Widow.”

Maria’s face gives nothing away. She doesn’t say anything, either. She’s good, but she’s no Natasha.

Banner frowns. “I know you want to get him out now, but maybe we should wait for backup.”

“No. We get in and get him out.”

He senses rather than sees Tony’s mouth set in a grim line. “Compromised, I told you.”

“I’ll get him out by myself if need be.”

“We’ve had this conversation. You’re just one person, and you’re not thinking straight. I don’t know if this guy’s your soulmate or what, but you’re _compromised_ , Cap. How many times do I have to say that for it to get through your thick skull? We can’t go in like this. We need backup.”

The wind rustles the trees behind them, and suddenly all four of them are on alert. And then - wonder of wonders - Nat appears behind them as if she’d always been there, and Clint drops from a tree branch nearby, startling some birds. He gets the hairy eyeball from Natasha and winces.

Steve is so grateful he pulls Nat in for a hug; it surprises her but she doesn’t pull away.

“God, I’m so happy you’re here,” he whispers into her ear, which is surprisingly warm given the temperature.

“Where else would I be, Steve?”

“I don’t know, on an assignment somewhere? That’s what we were told.”

“Well, we got done early. And there’s something you should know before we head in, but I’m gonna need you to promise not to do anything you’ll regret later. Can you promise me that?”

The crew behind him - Banner, Hill, and Stark - all shake their heads _no_ in unison. Steve knows they’re doing it, but he doesn’t care. All of his attention is on Natasha now.

“Yes. I trust you.”

Tony clears his throat. “Uh, hello? You don’t trust us?”

“To go in quietly and help me find Bucky without starting a war? Not really.”

“The one and only stupidly suicidal Captain America is telling me not to start a war?”

“Oh, okay, you’re right. The suit is super stealthy, and you’re spy of the year - “

“Not the point, grandpa - “

“Boys, cut it out,” Nat says, and everyone stills.

Steve sighs and cracks his neck. His body is aching for a fight, the same way it has since he was seven years old and watching his first bully on the playground. That was the day Sarah Rogers realized her son was a hero, or so she told him on her deathbed. It was also the day she realized her son needed more than she could give, and the guilt of that ate her up until her dying day.

And then Erskine had come along, and Steve got his chance to show the world what Sarah Rogers had known since the beginning.

He shakes his head to dispel the memories and gives Natasha the go-ahead.

Steve manages to keep his promise, though it’s a near thing. Bucky’s in trouble big time, on the verge of having his brain irreparably damaged, tortured until they had to give him a _metal arm_ , and they have to hurry. Only problem is the clan of men prowling the grounds, and that’s not even thinking about whatever’s underground. Even Natasha hadn’t been able to get a feel for how large the place is; all she knows is that Bucky is there, thankfully on the first floor below ground, and in dire need of rescue.

“We’re yours to command,” Clint says into the painful silence.

“Well, obviously we need a diversion.” Focusing on the problem with a full team gives him purpose; the analytical part of his brain takes over and he disassociates from the emotional. It may or may not be healthy, but he’s kind of out of options. This part’s as natural as breathing, at least. “Hulk and Iron Man, go north and use that little parking structure to lead as many as you can on a wild goose chase. Nat and Maria will sneak up from the south and I’ll follow behind. Clint… be Clint and do your thing.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Stay on comms but quiet unless you’re reporting in.”

No one needs to be told that; today is not a day for banter. They may not get why Steve is so attached to this guy - hell, Steve can’t even define that himself - but they’re a team. He has faith that they will bring Bucky out, safe and unharmed.

Well, as unharmed as someone can be with a metal arm.

Tony gives the signal, a louder-than-necessary rocket blast followed by the even louder sound of classic rock. He, Maria, and Natasha take off for the south end of the building just as they hear the Hulk roar.

Steve watches from cover as Nat and Hill sneak in; only one guard seems to catch sight of them, and Nat dispatches him with a wicked-looking stiletto before he can so much as breathe. As they disappear from sight, Steve runs toward the building and channels all his fear and anger into the fight. The diversion appears to have worked; most of the men that had patrolled this room are now gone. Steve mercilessly dispatches the rest .

“I’m done up here. How did you get down?”

“See that panel to the right of the restroom door? It looks a little odd?” Maria’s voice echoes through the link.

“Yep, I see it.”

“Press it. The grate in the floor behind the holding cell will lift. Takes a bit of strength, but I doubt that’ll be a problem for you,” Hill adds wryly.

He follows her instructions and comes to a series of (thankfully) large pipes.

“Oh no,” he groans. “I’m gonna have to crawl in here, aren’t I.”

“Yep,” Natasha replies with way too much glee. “But it’s a short trip, I promise. I’ll help you out.”

It’s not long before he lands in a dungeon, a cell intended to contain someone strong - someone like him. It’s unlocked, and he steps into the hall to greet Natasha.

“I’ve gotten rid of the guards patrolling this level, and the rest of them left to see what’s going on upstairs. But there’s at least three more floors to this bunker. We need to get in and get him out. Quick.”

“Understood.”

Steve’s heartbeat picks up, knowing he’s so close to Bucky and with so little time. Then, of course, the comm crackles to life.

“Hey guys? Might wanna hurry it up. They know you’re there. We’re doing what we can, but I don’t wanna send the big green guy into some creaky Russian bunker unless absolutely necessary.”

“I gotta get him out, Stark. I can’t leave him here.”

“Right. I know. Hurry.”

Steve hears the repulsor’s familiar whine before Stark cuts off the comm link. The three of them rush down the hall, stopping in front of the door at the very end. It looks heavy, but Natasha stops Steve before he can wrestle it open.

“Steve. Be prepared. It might be ugly.”

He stares at her and swallows, nostrils flaring, adrenaline pumping. Then he rips the door off its hinges in one move.

Then his heart nearly stops.

Bucky is strapped to a chair with some evil-looking contraption hanging above him in threat - or maybe promise. Nat was right about the metal arm - he’s got one, alright, though it’s mostly covered by the black clothing they’ve got him in. It gleams in the harsh light of the lab, and Steve gapes at it briefly before running over to unbuckle his lover. He doesn’t even notice the other equipment, lost as he is in Bucky’s grey-blue eyes. They open slowly like he’s in a drug-induced stupor.

Steve promised himself. “I love you,” he whispers. To his surprise, Bucky’s eyebrows bunch up and his brow furrows, like he’s about to cry.

“Oh no no _no_ , they didn’t get you too, did they?” he slurs, and - wow, okay, that’s not the response he’d expected.

Natasha, who’s trying to give them privacy, walks over and urgently grabs Steve’s wrist. Belatedly, he realizes she’s been downloading data and checking out equipment with Maria for the last thirty seconds or so while he stares at his submissive, but that’s the only leeway they have.

“Steve, we gotta go. Now. Carry him.”

“Yeah. Yeah,” Steve replies, and unhooks Bucky from everything.

When he’s standing, and after a few failed attempts at getting him on his feet, Bucky looks him up and down and laughs, a full belly laugh, the kind you make when you’re deliriously happy or hysterical. Steve’s pretty sure this is the latter. He decides that carrying Bucky is probably the best solution right now.

“This way,” Nat hisses as several men pour through the vent in the ceiling where they came down at the opposite end of the hallway. She rushes them into a side room, knocks out two surprised-looking lab techs, and pounces onto a table beneath another vent.

“Up here. It’s not connected to the others. We can get all the way to the forest through this, if we take a detour through the sewer.”

Steve makes a face. “Are you sure there are no, y’know, stairs in this godforsaken place?”

“None that we can get out of alive.”

“Great. Sewers it is.”

They run into a small contingent of operatives, clearly the only ones aware of this little escape route, whom Steve is assuming are highly-trained soldiers, possibly enhanced, though they are still no match for the team. Normally they could be taken out in the blink of an eye, given the women he’s fighting with, but it turns out Bucky is a hell of a lot heavier than he looks. It doesn’t present any problems, but it does take them longer to get rid of the undesired company.

The last man bursts out from behind Steve and tries to get at Bucky. Steve, whose reflexes are a little slower than normal, turns around only to find that Bucky’s knocked the guy on his ass with one swing of his new metal arm.

“Ha! Did you see that, Stevie? Fucking awesome!”

Nat and Maria exchange a look, eyebrows raised. Nat turns back to them and mouths _Stevie?_ Steve just rolls his eyes.

“Steve, babe, I can get down. I can walk now.”

He’s not so sure about that, but Bucky seems more coherent with each minute that passes, so he lets him hobble along. All that matters now is that he’s got his Bucky back - and he’ll never let go again.

 

***

 

The good mood doesn’t last long. Nat got as much data as she could, but most of it had been wiped clean. Most of what she’d gotten was intel on something called the Winter Soldier program. And she refused to share it with Steve which, quite frankly, terrified him. Maybe it reminded her of the Red Room. Hell, maybe being out here at all reminded her of the Red Room.

Bucky’s still slightly high when Nat comes for a visit. Steve’s holding his hand and humming to himself, which seems to calm Bucky down, and he glares at Natasha. Stubborn as she is, though, she plows on ahead, ignoring Steve entirely and pulling up a chair to chat with Bucky.

“I need any and all information you can give me on what happened to you.”

“Jesus Christ, Romanov, give him a break. He’s been through a lot.”

Bucky giggles. “Through the ringer, don’t you know? Hey, you’re the Black Widow lady. I like you!”

Natasha raises an eyebrow at Steve, who shrugs.

“Hey, Buck? Can you answer her questions?”

“For why, Steve?”

“For me, Buck. As a favor for me.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah.” He closes his eyes.

“Uh, yeah. Just ask, Nat. He can hear you. I think.”

Bucky gives a thumbs up.

She clears her throat. “Right. I need to know as much as you can remember.”

“Yeah, sure. You wan’ know ‘bout the arm ‘n stuff, huh. Isn’t it cool, Steve?” His eyes fly open again; they’re wide and the pupils are dilated, even in the light of the quinjet’s med bay. “I totally brained that guy without even trying!”

It’s cute. It’s adorable. Steve wants to snuggle, not deal with an unofficial debriefing while his submissive can barely think straight.

Nat’s voice loses an octave. It reminds Steve of the lullaby. “Hey, buddy? This is serious stuff. I’m gonna need you to cooperate.” Then a look crosses her face that reminds Steve of those comics where light bulbs go off above people’s heads. “I’ll get you a lollipop afterwards. How about that?”

Steve rolls his eyes, but sure enough, Bucky’s as excited as a kid in a candy store. Or a submissive on a kink fetish site. One of the two and hopefully not both together. He puts his head in his hands and hopes she can get it over with quickly. Bucky needs rest.

Bucky’s story alone is enough to make him see red. They’d essentially tortured him, first by denying him the medical care he so obviously needed, and then by doing heaven-knows-what in removing what was left of his arm. Now that he’s gotten a closer look at the scars, it makes Steve sick to his stomach to realize they removed Bucky’s entire shoulder to get the damn thing on him. And then - somehow - Bucky loves the fucking thing, and Steve? Well, Steve is just gonna have to get used to it being there, a reminder of what his submissive went through because he’d failed.

And when the words ‘Hydra’ and ‘Alexander Pierce’ come up, he’s proud to note that he doesn’t completely lose it. Even though whatever Steve had managed to grab onto in this new century is snapping underfoot like a loose twig. Even though the organization he’d thought he could trust has betrayed him with a knife to the gut.

Even though Nat knew. Of course she knew.

“I wasn’t certain. Not one hundred percent.”

“Why didn’t you tell me anyway?”

“I needed you clear-headed. As much as you could be with this one gone,” she says, gesturing toward Bucky, who has now fallen asleep completely. Telling the story really took it out of him, just as Steve figured it would.

But this. This feels like that knife he’d taken to the gut is being twisted, hitting all the organs it’d missed on its way in. Nat did this to him.

“Wow,” he says, near tears despite himself. In his day, ‘real’ men didn’t cry, and though he doesn’t blame others for crying, it’s still not an easy thing for him to do. He’s exhausted and hurt and just ready to crawl into a hole and take Bucky with him. “Didn’t realize my team distrusts me that much.”

“Steve, you know that’s not it.”

“Oh? And just what is it then?”

_Channel it into anger, Steve, just like you always have._

Wait, what? Channel _what_ into anger?

“I had to be sure.”

“Yeah, you’ve made that excuse a million times already. Not cuttin’ it, Nat.”

She squares her jaw. “They could have been watching you, Rogers. They could still be watching you. It’s not you I distrust, it’s everyone else.”

And okay, that makes some sense. He can see the truth of it in her eyes. But he’s tired, too. Bone-deep weariness that all the sleep in the world couldn’t take away. Ever since he woke up in this century, he’s felt it, like the ice lives in him now and he can never actually thaw.

“Let me get some rest, okay? We can talk about this when we touch down.”

“We need a contingency plan before we touch down, Rogers. And this is the only room I’ve had time to debug. I’ll give you three hours. Then we need to know what we’re doing. They’ll be after us.”

He’ll take what he can get. “Yes ma’am.”

As soon as she’s gone, Steve curls up with Bucky and cries like he hasn’t since he was a little boy. And he holds onto the one good thing he has left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve to the rescue! Yay!


	11. Chapter 11

The arm is awesome.

No, really. There’s no other word for it. This metal arm is _awe-some_ , or _wicked_ , if you’ve been watching Steve’s new (secretly) favorite program, and you can tear it away from Bucky over his dead body. Not that he thinks they would. Tony Stark quickly changed his mind about Bucky when he found out that he has an actual, working metal appendage.

It’s been three days since his escape - well, okay, _rescue_ \- from Siberia (!!!) and he’s bored out of his mind. Steve and Tony have kept him in medical the entire time, wanting to be certain he’s healthy. He’s not even sure where in the world he is, just that it’s a secret. Although Bucky supposes that’s the entire point of having a secret. He just wishes he was in on it.

The time for sleeping is beyond over, though. He feels fine, and he’s more rested than he’s ever been in his entire life. In fact, it’s gotta be unhealthy to get that much damn sleep, even if some of it was under anesthesia or other unspecified drugs.

He takes out the IV and pulls off the heart monitor’s electrodes, hoping Stark’s tech doesn’t have him on some sort of alert, and stands up. Walking is hard, partially because he’s weak from days of immobility, and partially because this fucking hospital gown keeps exposing his bare ass. Who designs these damn things, anyway?

Bucky sneaks out of the room and down the hall, moving with surprising stealth and regaining his strength quicker than he’d thought possible. This place is huge, wherever he is, and windowless so far, but he hears faint voices at the end of another side hall, so he heads that way.

Outside the door, Bucky hears Steve talking loudly, seeming agitated. Instead of going inside and saying hello like he had originally intended, he decides to listen from outside the room. The voices are clear even behind the closed door.

“It’s risky,” a woman’s voice says. He thinks it was the woman, the one that wasn’t the Widow, from his rescue mission. “Pierce will be watching his security like a hawk. If he suspects that we know about this, there’s no way we’ll get within twenty miles of the Triskelion. No way we can do it.”

“Um, excuse me? Why do you think I can’t get into their security?” Stark scoffs.

“Now isn’t the time for your ego, Stark,” the woman responds with a scowl in her tone.

“It’s not about my ego, it’s about what we can or cannot do here, and I say we can do it.”

Steve sighs. “He’s right. If they’re expecting us anyway, we might as well try to get into their systems and discover what’s going on.”

The Widow speaks up. “I’m willing to bet I can get in there unseen.”

“Even with them looking for you?”

“Even then,” she confirms.

Another guy Bucky doesn’t know mumbles something unintelligible, then says, “It’s risky, Natasha, but we need the information somehow. They’re planning something big, or they wouldn’t have come after Cap.”

Steve sighs, and he sounds old. Bucky wants to go to him, but can’t expose himself as an eavesdropper now. He desperately wants to earn these people’s trust, show them his worth.

“I should’ve been there.”

Natasha’s chair squeaks. “Steve, you have to stop beating yourself up. It wasn’t your fault.”

“He’s my responsibility, Nat. I promised him I’d take care of him, and now he’s lost an arm _and_ a shoulder. A part of him is made of _metal,_ for Christ’s sake. _”_

Bucky’s not sure, but he thinks maybe Steve shudders at that pronouncement, and his heart sinks. He loves the arm, but what if Steve can’t accept it? What if Bucky’s ugly scars turn him off now?

Doesn’t bear thinking about, so he won’t. Better to worry about that if - and only if - it becomes necessary.

“To be fair, he seems to like the arm,” Tony says.

“More like _you_ like it.”

“And you don’t, because it just reminds you that you failed to protect him.”

“Because I did, Stark.”

Natasha sighs. “This isn’t the point of this discussion. Steve, I think you need to talk to someone.” Steve inhales like he wants to start arguing, but doesn’t. Natasha must be giving him _A Look_ of some sort. “Call the V.A. later. I’d avoid SHIELD if I were you; we don’t know who might be involved in this. Meanwhile, I’m gonna need a nice, quiet ride to DC. Then I’ll discover everything I can about what Pierce is hiding.”

“And until then?” the unknown guy asks.

“Until then, we wait. We hide. From Pierce, from SHIELD, from everything. We don’t know how far up it goes.” Steve sounds disgusted. Patience was never his thing; Bucky knows that even after such a short time with him.

“What about your assessment?”

“ _Fuck_ the assessment. I’m of half a mind not to do it anyway.”

“That wouldn’t go over so well, you know,” Stark muses. And it’s true, but if anyone can get away with something like that, it’s Steve Rogers.

“If Pierce is against us, I’m an enemy to the public anyway. So what does it matter?”

Bucky’s still trying to piece together who Alexander Pierce is when he realizes they’ve been quiet for a few minutes. He tiptoes back down to the room, terrified he’ll get caught snooping on an Avengers meeting. That sounds like a horrible idea, but he was never the brightest crayon in the litter, as his ma had liked to say before she died, heaven rest her soul. He’d always liked that joke.

He climbs back into the bed and realizes he feels approximately one hundred and ten percent, which is odd, but he’ll take it. Steve probably won’t, though, more’s the pity. He’s gotta find a way to show Steve that this isn’t his fault, because it’s not. Because Steve Rogers has a guilty conscience as deep as the Marianas Trench.

It doesn’t take long for his dom to make it back down the hall. Steve has been there every single time Bucky’s woken up. He even wakes up to Steve asleep next to him sometimes, carefully avoiding the wires connecting him to gleaming stainless steel monitors while managing to touch Bucky with every inch of skin possible. It’s adorable.

“Hey, gorgeous. I see you’re up.”

“Yeah, I’m up. Feel much better.”

Much, _much_ better. Or at least he does until he sees Steve’s expression. Right - he’d been blanketed every time he’d woken up in this room.

Steve’s staring.

“You don’t like it.”

“Oh, baby, sweetheart. That’s not true. It’s part of you, and I love it.”

He swallows; what if he’s just saying that to be nice? What if Steve ends up hating this part of his body? It’s not like he’d had a choice. “I don’t know if I believe you. I mean, it doesn’t look like it.” His voice is small and sad.

“Hey, Bucky, listen to me.”

Steve climbs onto the bed and practically sits in Bucky’s lap, all 240 pounds of him, and it makes Bucky giggle.

“You gonna sit in my lap, Stevie?”

“I am, until you shut your damn mouth and listen.”

“Promises,” he sighs dreamily.

Steve grabs his metal hand and brings it to his mouth palm-up, kissing it softly. Then he makes his way up the wrist, the elbow, removing the gown so that he can kiss all the way up to Bucky’s shoulder and to the scars where it’s attached to his body. Bucky watches him with something like awe.

“Believe me now? What do I have to do to convince you, Buck?”

Steve’s eyes look like the bright blue sky, too stunning to look at directly, and so honest and earnest and pure that Bucky suddenly wants to cry.

“I believe you,” he whispers. “I’m just afraid.”

Steve kisses the tip of his nose. “You got nothin’ to be afraid of. I’m right here and I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Good.”

“Yeah. So I’ve got some news.”

“Oh?”

“Tony has some work for you to do. It’s easy stuff, but if you’ve got a knack for engineering, I think you’ll be happy. You can learn a lot from Tony.”

Yeah, that’s true, but… “Doesn’t Tony think that the laws make sense? I shouldn’t technically be working, unless you count serving you as work. Which I don’t, for several reasons.”

Inexplicably, Steve blushes. He looks goddamn _edible_. “Well, maybe he’s changing his mind. Being around you, even if just a little, is changing his perspective. I’m not sure he’s ever met someone with your classification. He thought… I don’t know. He thought the tech was the issue I had with the whole thing, when it’s the law that makes no sense.”

“Sure. I still look forward to getting back to where we were. Even if we don’t do the assessment.”

Steve eyes him strangely, and he realizes a moment too late that he’d given himself away.

“Oh, uh, I mean… because we’re in trouble?”

_Yeah, that oughtta do it, Barnes._

“You were listening?”

Now it’s Bucky’s turn to blush. “A little,” he admits. “Not much. Just enough to hear that we’re trying to get information on Pierce. And I feel like I should know that name, but I don’t. Oh, and I heard all about your guilt complex, too.”

Steve chuckles. “You’re a bad boy and I might have to spank you later.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “Please do.”

“Uh huh. As far as Pierce goes, he’s the Secretary of the World Security Council.” At the look on Bucky’s face, Steve nods grimly. “Yep, so you’re not kidding when you say we’re in trouble. We don’t know how far up it goes. Could even be the President or the Supreme Court.”

Steve reaches out to grab his metal hand. Steve’s hand looks too fragile in comparison, an artist’s hand if there ever was one. “You know, I thought I’d wiped them out. Back in ‘45. The Red Skull was the scariest thing I’d ever seen, and I willingly ended my life to rid the world of his evil. Then it turns out, not only is Hydra alive and well, but the organization I’m working for is potentially a part of it.”

Bucky squeezes his hand. “It’s not the whole organization, Steve. We’ll root it out. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

Steve’s smile is like the sunrise. “I know you will. And speaking of… as far as my ‘guilt complex’ goes, that’s not on you, okay? I have to deal with it.”

“Natasha’s right, though. You’ve gotta recognize it for what it is.”

“I know. But right now, I just wanna lie down with you and snuggle.”

Bucky groans. Just snuggle?

And Steve is so perceptive; Steve knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Later,” he murmurs into Bucky’s ear as he grabs onto him and holds tightly. “I’ll give you everything you deserve later.”

“Aye-aye, Cap’n,” Bucky responds, and Steve shuts him up with a kiss.

 

***

 

It feels like it’s been ages since they’ve done more than cuddle. Steve finally let him out of observation two days ago, and if he’d thought he was going crazy before, boy howdy does he know it now. Not just stir-crazy, either, though that’s a part of it. No, he needs to serve his dom. Needs to feel like he’s useful. But Steve’s treating him with goddamn kid gloves again. Fucking Steve.

This morning, though, Steve leaves him a note before he goes out to jog around the compound.

_There’s a present in the closet for you. I want you to wear it and nothing else for the rest of the day. I’ll be back to the room at 5 pm sharp. I want you kneeling at the front door, position five. Be good and don’t touch your cock all day. See you soon._

It’s like Santa Claus has arrived! The burnished steel butt plug is the perfect size for him, not too small but not so big it’d be uncomfortable, either. He eagerly cleans himself and inserts the plug, stretching his ass nicely in preparation for later. Now all that’s left to do is wait.

 

Feels like it takes all day, but finally, Steve walks into their shared suite at the Avengers compound. He sighs like a run-down freight train, all chuffy-like. Bucky wants to get up and go to him, to comfort him the way a boyfriend would do, or a submissive would. But he’s in this position because he’s a beta, and they’re running out of time to figure it out. There’s not really time for comfort anymore, not after he lost all those days to his kidnappers.

Steve breathes deeply as he stares down at Bucky, who is genuflecting like he was born on his hands and knees, ass in the air and on display. The plug isn’t too happy with the situation as it tries to loosen itself from inside him. He has to keep tightening his muscles to hold it in. At this rate, Steve will be able to slide right in with no resistance, Bucky’ll be so tired.

The point is, Bucky’s a sight. And he knows it.

Even though Steve probably just wants a backrub and a cuddly bubble bath, and would do that if their situation wasn’t what it is, Bucky’s getting excited. Steve usually just picks him up and carries him to the bedroom, fucks him sweet or fast or hard (and sometimes all three), but they don’t do much symbolic submission like this. Bucky doesn’t cook for Steve, doesn’t wake him up in the morning with breakfast in bed. He doesn’t kneel like this outside of the bedroom, doesn’t spend hours on the couch with his mouth on Steve’s soft cock like he wants to do. It’s not like there’s been too much time to figure out all these little protocols, but still. His mouth is watering for it.

“Crawl behind me,” Steve commands. He sounds like Captain America should: stern and sharp and so in charge it makes Bucky’s fucking balls ache. He keeps his eyes on the floor and obeys, staring at the backs of Steve’s ankles and feet and wanting so much to just suckle on every inch of him he can get into his mouth. Steve’s so fucking hot; how did he get this goddamn lucky? Even with everything else. The assessment, the kidnapping, the metal arm - _awesome,_ he’d said - all worth it to be on his hands and knees behind Steve.

And hopefully in front of Steve soon.

But Steve doesn’t let him stay on his knees; no, Steve teases the fuck out of him like the asshole he is. Bucky’s been touched from head to toe for an hour and a half now, and Steve hasn’t put a hand on his cock even once. Bucky’s long since stopped saying anything approaching actual words.

“You think you can do it for me, baby? How close are you, Buck?”

“Mmmmm!” He makes an array of strange noises, unable to gather enough coherent thoughts in one place to say _maybe, maybe I can. Just keep going, don’t stop, keep going._

Steve gets the point, of course he does. He runs his fingernails around Bucky’s groin, dangerously close to hitting the jackpot and making Bucky arch up off the bed.

Steve is the one who hisses with pleasure. “Fuck, if you could see yourself right now.”

Bucky can only moan in response.

He’s close - damn close, closer than he would’ve thought possible. The spectre of the assessment hanging over their heads is probably not helping matters in the least, and he tries not to be too discouraged that it’s just not going to happen tonight. There’s always tomorrow - and hell, it’s not like the practice isn’t erotic as fuck.

He taps out, clicking the headboard three times with his index finger to let Steve know to untie him. Steve does, wiping his brow and kissing his forehead, before he gets up to fetch them both some water.

Bucky drifts in and out of headspace as Steve holds him close and kisses his face. The water is cool in his mouth and he drinks it greedily. Steve has something he needs to talk to him about, he can tell, but he doesn’t want this moment to end. The aftercare is the best part.

Eventually, the furrows between Steve’s brows drive him to ask. “Steve? What’s up, buddy?”

Steve snaps back to reality and stops stroking Bucky’s forehead, raising his eyebrows. “Buddy?”

“Pal. Guy. Friend.”

And there’s that fond look. The look no one in the world will ever get to see besides Bucky Barnes. But the furrow is still there. Bucky stares at Steve pointedly.

“There’s a lot goin’ on, but here’s one you’re not gonna like: we are going to have to do this in front of people. They’re going to see us touch each other, kiss each other, make love to each other.”

Bucky makes a face; he hates that phrase. _Just say ‘fuck’ already, Steve._

“I mean it, Buck.”

“I know,” he says softly, reaching up to boop Steve on the nose.

“Well, I think maybe… maybe we should practice.”

He looks toward the wall and sets his mouth in a line. “Yeah, I was thinkin’ that, too.”

“Who do you feel most comfortable with? I’m leaving that up to you.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Give me a day or two to think on it?”

“I will,” Steve promises. “Though I thought maybe we’d approach Tony.”

“Tony?”

“Yeah. I know it sounds weird, but I’m going with my gut here.”

“Well, I trust you. Let’s see what he says about it, at least.”

“Good,” Steve says, nodding decisively, then gets that sly look Bucky just dies for. “You done for the night, or you need me to get you off?”

“You need me to get _you_ off, dunce.”

“My brain is saying don’t be silly, but my inner super soldier can’t help agreeing with you. Let me ask you another question: you want me to fuck you up?”

Steve’s voice gets gravelly and drops an octave, and Bucky’s eyes widen. He just nods, his own voice leaving him again like a traitor.

This time he’s tied up on his stomach, ankles and thighs wrapped together with bondage rope, wrists re-tied to the headboard. He can’t move an inch, but Steve checks in on him and gently strokes his back to calm him. His mind goes fuzzy again, and he hears rather than sees Steve get out a toy.

Bucky closes his eyes and listens to the hypnotic sounds of something swooping through the air. A belt, maybe? No, it didn’t jingle. A crop? A cane?

“Mmm, Stevie baby, what you got for me now?”

“It’s ‘sir,’ James Buchanan Barnes, and for that you get five more strokes.”

Bucky shivers.

“And it’s a switch,” Steve offers, before smacking him on the left buttock.

Bucky yelps, unprepared, and Steve lets out an evil chuckle behind him. It wasn’t a hard hit, but _Jesus wept_ , it wasn’t light, either. His cock, which had gone soft after the first ‘round,’ if one can call it that, starts getting hard again. He’s willing to bet Steve’s just as turned on, too, since neither of them has gotten off yet.

Steve is extremely talented at knowing just how much to push Bucky; it’s like they’ve known each other and played with each other like this their whole lives. He feels his ass go from barely warm to burning hot and still, he wants more of it. More of Steve and everything Steve’ll give him. And this time, Steve’s not holding back.

Maybe he’d been just as desperate as Bucky. If so, Bucky needs to get him riled up like this all the time.

By the time Steve’s done, they’re both breathing hard from exertion and arousal, and Steve fumbles with the ankle and leg ropes in his haste to get Bucky ready. He barely needs to work Bucky up, he’s so loose from the plug and his desire. Bucky cries out as Steve pushes into him, feeling his dom up against his back and the man’s breath hot against the shell of his ear. His flesh is on fire, but Steve doesn’t seem to care as he rubs his pelvis against Bucky’s ass every time he fucks down into him.

When it’s clear that Bucky’s close, Steve reaches around and grips the base of his cock tight. He whispers _come for me_ into Bucky’s ear with hot breath, and Bucky starts going off even before Steve’s grip disappears. He gasps his way through it, one of the strongest orgasms he’s ever had; that’s how it feels to be commanded by the one and only Steve Rogers. Steve comes right on his heels, feeling the powerful pulse of Bucky’s inner walls surrounding him.

The afterglow is like bathing in the sun.

 

“So do you want to talk about it?”

“‘Bout what, Buck?”

Bucky hates to break the silence, considering he feels more at peace than he has since before the kidnapping, but something is obviously up with Steve, and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

“‘Bout whatever happened today. Duh.”

“Not really.”

“Alright. I won’t force you to, but I’m here if you need me.”

Steve nods. “I know.”

“I’m not sure you do, Steve. How often do you actually talk about things that bother you?”

Steve throws his arms over his eyes and makes a face. “Not you, too.”

“There’s a reason people say this. It’s not healthy.”

“You’ve only known me for like, a month. And a half.”

“I know you pretty damn well already. It’s my job to, and you’re not exactly hard to read. ‘Captain America is just as angsty as he seems! Tune in tonight at seven!’”

Steve eyes him from under his arms, looking unimpressed. He sighs. “I’d punish you but I’m all tired out.”

“Must be pretty serious, huh?”

“Yeah. But you helped take the edge off a lot. So thanks.”

“Let’s go shower. I’ll get you all nice and cleaned up.”

Steve smirks. “Your service kink is showing, dear.”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot more where that came from. After this assessment, we can really figure out what we want to be together. Make our own rules.” That makes Bucky happy. It makes Steve happy, too, he can tell, even with the shadow of that hell hanging over them.

He kneels for Steve in the shower, feeling the cool air rush over him and give him goosebumps as Steve takes up all the hot water. Bucky’s never happier than he is when he’s on his knees, and having Steve Rogers’ cock in his face makes it a million times better. He licks his lips and blushes when Steve catches him staring.

“You’re adorable,” Steve tells him fondly.

“You’re hot,” he replies.

“Your ass is gonna be hot soon if you don’t get me cleaned up.”

“My ass is already red, duh.”

“Yeah, I kinda did a number on you, didn’t I?”

He reaches around to rub his ass, and to his surprise, it doesn’t really hurt much. In fact, he can barely feel it. Strange; after a strapping like that, he should have bruises for days.

Bucky shrugs and gets to work, soaping Steve from bottom to top, front to back, taking extra care to ensure his most intimate places are exceptionally clean. Steve seems amused by his insistence on rubbing just one more handful of soap all over his cock, but eventually he forces Bucky to let go, and even though he gives Steve his best puppy dog eyes, it’s not enough to save him. Much as he’d like to, he can’t just kneel here and play with Captain America’s All American Dick all day long.

Steve motions him to stand up and takes the soap himself, rubbing Bucky down the same way he’d done it. His dom on his knees in front of him feels strange, but it’s still a damn pretty sight, and he gets caught staring yet again.

Steve just smiles at him and gestures for him to turn around, and that’s when Bucky knows that something is wrong. Steve goes quiet, unmoving; suddenly, the sound of the water falling is unbearably loud. Tension clouds the bathroom, thick and cloying. He’s afraid to know what it is, what’s wrong.

He slowly turns around, afraid of what he’ll see in his dom’s eyes. To his surprise, they’re big and round and so painfully blue just like always, but not scared. Not worried. Just… confused.

“Uh, Stevie?”

“Yeah?” Steve whispers.

“You’re freakin’ me out a little, okay? What’s going on?”

“Oh. You’re, um… you’re not marked at all. I mean you are, a little bit, but not like you should be with the thrashing I gave you. You’re healing faster than you’ve any right to. Almost like I… would… “

Steve frowns, looking thoughtful, before grabbing Bucky by the hand and tugging him out to towel off.

“Hey! My ass isn’t even clean yet!”

“It’s okay, I’m just going to dirty it up later anyway.”

Bucky’s jaw drops as he follows Steve out of the bathroom and into their shared bedroom. “What would the world think if they knew Captain America talked like that?”

“I’m wondering what the world would think if they knew there were two Captain Americas now. Bucky, I think they gave you serum. That’s why your shoulder is healing without nearly as many scars as it should have. We’re gonna have to try some things out, but… I think they made you a super soldier.”

His eyes are as round as saucers - he knows they are - but Bucky can’t keep the goofy look off his face. To be like Steve… well, he doesn’t really have a construct in place for that. There’s just empty space in his head when he tries to imagine it. And wouldn’t he feel differently if it were true?

But he does. He noticed it the other day when he first awakened and listened in on the Avengers meeting. He should’ve been as weak as a newborn foal, but any weakness he’d felt had passed by the time he made it to the end of that hallway.

He sucks in a breath at the realization.

Steve nods, like that was the confirmation he needed. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Tell Tony and Bruce we need to speak with them in the med center. We’ll be down in five.”

“Certainly.”

Steve throws him a pair of pants and shoos him out the bedroom door before he can even put on a shirt.

“Steve, man. Let me get dressed first.”

“Why bother, you’re just gonna get undressed right away.”

Now he really is scandalized. “You can’t just do that!”

“I’m your dom, I can do anything I want.”

Oh _hell_ no. “Uh, no?”

Steve scoffs as he practically pushes him out the door to their suite. “You love it. You’d love if I showed you off to my friends, wouldn’t you?”

Bucky sighs. “You caught me.”

Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Doesn’t take much, pal.”

 

Bucky’s embarrassed as hell to be inspected like this - a feeling he’d better get used to, and soon - and Steve’s face is beet red, but Tony and Bruce are fascinated; Bucky is a puzzle to be figured out, and they don’t seem to care about his shame, or about Steve’s. Not in a dehumanizing way, of course, just interest. He can’t decide if it’s fun or not.

Part of that is because now he _really_ feels like a science experiment. A very strange one. How would he explain this to his friends? _By the way, I can’t bruise when you beat me anymore because I think I got shot up with some Captain America-style super soldier serum but I’m not really sure? And Iron Man is currently staring at my ass with morbid fascination?_

Yeah, that’s a totally normal and sane conversation to have with friends, right?

Being the subject of so much discussion is exciting at first, but he soon gets tired of it. Steve sits with him on the bed in medical, holding his hand, pulling Bucky’s head to rest on his shoulder.

Finally, Bruce and Tony finish running tests. They still have stuff to analyze, but they explain that Bucky’s safe and won’t come to any harm from whatever’s been done to him, not that Bucky couldn’t have told them that himself. It’s for safety’s sake, Tony had said, but boy is he happy to see the ass end of medical. Never seeing it again would be too damn soon.

“Hey, Tony? There’s something we’d like to ask you,” Steve says, and then he remembers - they have something else to worry about.

“Okay, I’ll be right up,” Tony replies, even though his face looks ancient because he probably hasn’t slept in three or four days. One thing after another excites the man. His mind is like a never ending circus. Bucky finds himself liking Tony despite Tony’s apparent disgust over his status.

Bucky’s good mood is gone by the time they make it to their private suite, though. His body is definitely excited about the prospect of being watched by someone else - Bucky’s a sub, he loves someone taking control in almost every situation, so if Steve tells him to submit, he’ll do so happily - but it reminds him of the fact that the government is also going to be a voyeur in his relationship, and that still makes him a bit sick to his stomach. The point is, that’s something they have no choice over. And it matters when someone doesn’t have a choice.

Steve explains it to Tony, how they need to know if they can perform under that kind of pressure, if Tony would be not only willing to watch but give pointers, if he could do this for his friends despite the humiliation.

And Tony, bless him, accepts it. Like it’s not that big of a deal at all. Like this is a perfectly normal thing to ask of friends. They discuss the details, but Bucky’s going crazy trying to figure out why this isn’t an issue, or even a surprise, for Stark.

Finally, he’s had enough. He interrupts Steve, who frowns at him in consternation, to ask.

“Why the hell does this feel weirder to us than to you? We’re the ones asking you to do this really fucked-up thing, and it’s like… I don’t know, not a big issue to you? I’m confused.”

Tony nods. “Understandable. Probably a lot of people would freak out if you came to them. Maybe fewer of us than you realize, but out of the general population? Yeah, this is weird shit. I mean, it’s weird shit to all of us, but the Avengers are a collection of semi-broken people.”

Steve winces; it hurts to hear it said out loud like that, even though Bucky knows he has to acknowledge the truth of it.

Bucky looks from Tony to Steve and back again, still seeming lost. He doesn’t know anything about their history, really. Who the Black Widow is, where she came from. How Bruce Banner became the Hulk, how he deals with it. The lot of them are a total mystery to Bucky.

“Well,” Tony sighs. “Might as well come clean.”

They stare at him, wondering what’s coming.

“About what, Stark?” Steve asks.

“I’m a submissive. I’ve been through all of this. Not in the way you have to go through it, of course, but I had my own assessments. And I railed against my dad about it. I had such a love-hate relationship with him, and I really have daddy issues, let’s face it. And that’s part of where they come from. His little toys shaped my sexuality. Once that status card was issued, I didn’t have any more choices when it came to my sexual life.”

They stare at him. It occurs to Bucky then that, quite possibly, none of the Avengers discuss this kind of thing with each other, whereas the general populace sort of has little choice in the matter, given that their dating patterns are determined by their status. The Avengers might not even know each other’s orientation.

That sounds like freedom to Bucky. Being able to live life the way you want to live it, instead of the way someone else dictates it to you. Being able to pick your own partners, to do what you want to in the bedroom instead of what the government tells you to do. At least they don’t monitor those activities. Bucky hopes.

Oh _fuck_ , what if they monitor those activities?

Tony continues, plowing on despite Bucky’s ongoing crisis. “I’m lucky to have Pepper. She understands how difficult it was for me to come to terms with it. We even discussed this situation the other day, and well… I need to apologize for my behavior. With you, Barnes. You’ve been nothing but nice to me despite the things I’ve said about your status, and I’m sorry for that. You’ve got a heart of gold and I wouldn’t wish this on you for the world.”

“So then why did you say he deserved it?” Steve wonders aloud.

“Cognitive dissonance? That’s what Pepper calls it, at least. I convinced myself that what dad did was the right thing, that our society made the right decision thirty years ago. We didn’t. We made the exact wrong decision, and god do I loathe myself for compounding it.”

Steve nods, surprisingly unfazed by this explanation. Maybe he just knows Tony better than Bucky does. Though hearing that Tony loathes himself for anything is rather par for the course.

“Well,” Steve sighs. “We don’t have much of a choice now. We can worry about changing the world later. When do you want to do it?”

“Whenever’s convenient for you guys. As long as we don’t have a world-ending catastrophe anytime soon, my calendar’s pretty free.”

Bucky meets Steve’s eyes. They converse in the unspoken language of dom and sub. He nods a yes.

“Tomorrow night,” Steve tells him.

Tony stands up from the couch and shakes their hands. And that’s weird for Tony; he doesn’t like touching anything with his hands. Bucky feels special for that.

“Tomorrow night,” he agrees, and then walks out, not looking back.

Steve grabs Bucky around the waist and pulls him close. It’ll be strange and maybe a bit awkward, but they have an important ally now, someone to help them through this. Bucky’s never really felt alone by Steve’s side, but still. They don’t have to feel so alone together now.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains extremely dubious consent due to the nature of the society about which I'm writing. All interactions between Steve and Bucky are extremely enthusiastic. See notes at the bottom if you think you are afraid it's a squick or trigger.

  
  


The day dawns muggy and hot, damn near unbearable, especially for the season. There’s rain on the horizon, so close and yet too far. They’ll be in New York City by the time the clouds open up, in _ that _ place, but still Bucky yearns for the downpour. Something to settle this nervous fever. Something to wash him clean.

Steve holds his hand for the entire trip to the city. Tony had agreed to drive so they could have some last-minute time alone before the big show. It was no big deal, he’d said, considering Hydra probably knew when and where Steve’s assessment would be. Natasha has people in the city keeping an eye on things, too. And besides that, there’s virtually no way that the paps are going to stay away. The instant they recognize Steve Rogers, there’ll be a press-related madhouse around the center. So the Avengers, or at least Nat and Tony, are there to make sure Steve and Bucky are safe. 

They really have the best friends anyone could ask for.

Everyone at the testing center is professional, nothing like the people at the center Bucky went to for his first assessment. This place is specific to beta evaluations, though, so it makes a bit more sense. Even the judges here are hand-picked for these assessments. The consequences of this test are potentially vast, so it tends to be taken a bit more seriously.

_ Oh look, the government does care about us. More like they care about keeping us off the streets, _ Bucky thinks bitterly. _ We’re second class citizens, if that. Barely even people _ .

Steve checks them in, then holds Bucky’s hand while they sit in the waiting area, still unwilling to let go. Bucky already notices a difference between himself and the other betas. Steve is holding on to him tightly on the couch, while the others are all sitting at their doms’ feet. Some of the other doms stare at Steve, either because they recognize Captain America or because they loathe how he treats Bucky. 

_ How dare he treat me like a human. _

The others had been waiting since before Steve and Bucky arrived, and yet a state worker calls the two of them back first.

“Rogers, Steven? And Barnes, James?”

It’s so quick - he needs more time!

Steve sees the panic on Bucky’s face and asks for a minute so they can collect themselves. Bucky suspects this would not have been allowed if it were anyone but Steve Rogers himself, but he rolls with it. He’s having a downright panic attack.

Steve takes him into the bathroom and sits him down on the floor, helping him put his head between his knees. He rocks back and forth, forcing back the tears that threaten to fall. 

“Close your eyes. Think of me. Just me. Us. Focus on my voice. Remember? You and I are all that matters, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky whispers, ashamed of his fear.

“Good boy.”

Steve wraps him up in strong arms and surrounds him. Bucky can smell and see nothing but Steve, and hope blossoms in his chest. It’s faint, but it’s there. Maybe they can do the impossible. Maybe they can beat the system.

They’ve no choice but to try.

Bucky ignores the stares - glares, mostly - from the betas gathered in the waiting room. He marches to his doom with head held high.

It starts off horribly - of course it does. The head examiner, a woman with a square jaw and wild green eyes, immediately seizes Bucky’s metal arm, stating it’s a ‘weapon unfit for a beta.’ Like it’s not his fucking arm and connected to his nervous system besides. Several security guards force it off of him as Steve stares, shaken to the core and feeling impotent toward Bucky’s plight. He cries out in pain and stumbles into Steve’s arms. The exposed nerves scream, and still the woman has the gall to disapprove of the way he holds on to Steve like a lifeline.

He grits his teeth, praying to whatever gods might be out there that Steve takes his own advice and gets with the program.

The woman clears her throat, expecting them to separate, and Bucky meets Steve’s gaze as he steps back.  _ It’ll be okay, _ his eyes say. _ We can get through this. _

Once Bucky is standing at attention, somewhat off balance because of the loss of the arm, the woman looks him up and down. Being naked in front of her is absolutely turning him on, especially with that ferocious glare she levels at him, and his body flushes from head to toe. It almost feels like cheating on Steve somehow. But a glance at Steve from the corner of his eye informs him that Steve is mad as hell. He’s poised to strike, ready to do whatever it takes if she dares to hurt Bucky again. 

Had it been anyone other than Steve, Bucky would’ve given up here and now. But that stern, strong countenance, the outer strength masking the inner turmoil, and the fact that Steve is the bravest person Bucky’s ever known keeps him going. He stands up straight and stares just below the woman’s face. Just deferential enough to stay out of trouble.

“Inspection time. Hands on your head, legs spread,” she says in a clipped, controlled voice. Steve swallows audibly next to him, but Bucky keeps his face forward and finally closes his eyes. 

_ It’ll be over soon. Just think of Steve. He’s right here _ .

It’s killing him, how much he wants to just reach out and pull Steve in, get lost in his scent, his love, his very life force, because this place is like Hell’s waiting room. Not quite like purgatory, no - in purgatory, you wait for judgment. He feels like he’s already been judged and found wanting; now he’s just awaiting the opening of the gates and the red-hot hand to lead him to the pits. Bucky can practically smell the sulfur.

The rest of the panel watches silently as the examiner walks around him. She touches him anywhere she wants. Everywhere. He feels her eyes on him just as clearly as he does her fingers in his hair, on his face, arm, torso. She even smells his feet, at which point Bucky can’t help but confusedly look at Steve.

She saves the worst for last, handling his cock and balls as though he were a horse at an auction. She pays special attention to his penis, weighing it in her hand, gripping it harder than either he or Steve would. Bucky has to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain. Or pleasure, he’s not sure which.

“Too big for a beta.” She tuts, like he’s supposed to be ashamed. Like he’s supposed to be a certain way, something else based on the size of his cock. 

Fuck, this is the most humiliating experience of his life and he’s  _ getting off on it. _ What the fuck is wrong with him? There’s plenty of time for him to come in the near future, he knows, so he grits his teeth and allows the woman her voyeuristic fuckery.

Before anything else can happen, she walks over to the panel, whispering things to them and writing something down. A glance at Steve finds him frowning; he can probably hear the conversation. 

And when Bucky thinks about it, he realizes that he can, too.

“He’s too large,” she hisses. “Needs a reduction.”

A  _ reduction _ ? What the fuck is that?

Steve’s eyes are wide, alarmed. Bucky’s stomach flips. He hopes, _ prays _ that that isn’t what it sounds like. 

“That’ll be unnecessary, but thank you for the recommendation,” one of the men on the panel states, and thank heavens. Bucky’s heart is about to beat out of his chest.

The woman comes back, holding a stand with a sterile tray. Bucky closes his eyes again, not wanting to see what’s on it, though he knows. Of course he knows, he had to know what was going to happen to him here. He had to be prepared, as prepared as anyone could possibly be for something like this.

Resisting the urge to turn around, Bucky listens as the examiner pulls on a pair of latex gloves, clicks open the cap of a tube of lubricant, and then unceremoniously sticks one entire slicked-up finger inside him. 

Bucky gasps at the intrusion; he can’t help himself. Steve would never touch him like this, and if Steve wouldn’t, then why should she? 

_ That’s not how this works, _ he reminds himself bitterly.  _ This is how they want Steve to touch you _ . 

Feeling less than human, he obediently stays, with his legs spread and eyes forward. But he can see Steve’s squared jaw, his red face, and knows that this is just as difficult for him. In a way, it makes him glad, though if Captain America’s brand of righteousness kicks in while in the midst of this, they might have a problem.

But it doesn’t, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief - at least until the woman inserts the speculum. 

Steve clears his throat. “Is that really necessary?”

“Mr. Rogers, please contain yourself. This is part of the assessment. Your beta must be prepared for whatever pleasures you may wish to visit upon him, and his obedience must be tested as well. You know this. Please remain quiet.”

Steve’s teeth click as he shuts his mouth. Bucky can hear him breathing heavily through his nose.

_ It’s alright, Steve _ , his eyes project.  _ Just get through it. _

The speculum inside him opens up. 

“Another half-centimeter.” 

Bucky’s eyes squeeze shut. Fuck, it hurts!

Steve pitches his voice low, knowing that only Bucky will be able to hear him. 

“I’m here. Look at me, love. I’m here.” 

The examiner senses Bucky’s movement and glares at the both of them. Not only is it unconventional for a dom to care for his beta like this, it’s downright frowned upon. Bucky just forces himself to keep breathing. All that matters is that they pass and make it out of here in one piece.

Another two centimeters, and by then, Bucky is panting, trying his hardest not to groan with the pain. When she finally pulls it out, he barely manages to resist falling into Steve’s arms. 

But to his surprise, the woman straightens up and pats him on the shoulder. 

“You’ve done well,” she tells him. “Most betas are incapable of taking that kind of pain without crying out. Your dom is a very lucky man.”

She still glares at Steve as she walks by him, though, probably knowing that the kind of pain play they do is a far cry from what she expects from them. Her heels click on the tile floor as she walks away. 

“You must give him an enema now,” she says nonchalantly.

“I’m sorry, what?” Steve asks her retreating figure.

“An enema, Captain Rogers.”

“Uh… but there’s nowhere for him to purge in here.”

“There is a grate in the corner. You may hose him down afterwards. The enema kit is on the table. I’ve left it for you.”

Okay, what the  _ fuck _ ? This wasn’t in the manual.

“We came prepared, ma’am, and besides that, this wasn’t part of the deal.”

She sits back in her chair, frowning as Steve starts walking toward the desk. The other two judges watch impassively. 

“There is no ‘deal,’ Captain Rogers. He gets an enema, he purges it in the corner, end of discussion.” She sticks her nose into a notebook and proceeds to ignore Steve entirely.

Steve, for his part, has a jaw made of stone, or steel, or diamond, it’s so square and set. His nostrils flare - Bucky knows that that’s not a good sign. He pitches his voice low as his dom walks back to him.

“It’s okay, they just wanna humiliate me more. I’ll be fine.”

Steve shakes his head and closes his eyes, praying for strength. “That’s the point, Bucky, they shouldn’t have to humiliate you more than this entire farce does already.”

“Yeah, but I’m fine. We did this before we left the compound, remember? It won’t be that bad. Just water.”

His dom sighs, and it’s like the breath from an ancient crypt. He seems so old in this moment, Bucky’s heart aches for him.

“Alright. As far away from them as possible. You can put your head in my lap if you want while it goes in. They’re not gonna stop me from doing that much, goddammit.”

It turns out, Bucky enjoys getting an enema from Steve - he’s learning all kinds of things about himself today. Not that he enjoys the expulsion process, not at all, though at least he’s clean. But enemas are private matters, and Steve’s soft fingers in his hair almost make the public humiliation worth it. Almost.

When it’s over, their assessor gives them an unimpressed stare. 

“You may prepare yourselves. Five minutes.”

Steve sticks to him like velcro then, leading him over to the bed and spending an entire minute just holding him. The judges are deliberating amongst themselves and are not paying attention. Thank heavens. Bucky needs this reprieve.

“How are you doing?” Steve asks him in that same low voice.

“I’m fine,” Bucky says, even though he’s shivering with anxiety.

“Okay. You did well, love. I am so, so proud of you.” 

Steve kisses his forehead, smoothing away his wavy hair, tasting the sweat that’s nearly pouring out of him.

“You ready for the next part?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let’s do it, then. Let’s show these voyeuristic assholes just what a dom-sub pair is supposed to look like.”

Bucky grins despite himself. “You’re the best, Steve.”

“ _ We’re _ the best. Now kiss me like you mean it.”

“Yes, sir,” he says, and kisses him like it’s the last time.

 

“You’ve got twenty minutes to punish him. It’s up to you what implements you use, but you must make him bleed by the end of it. I expect you to go hard on him, Captain Rogers.” 

The woman glares at them. Steve rolls his eyes as soon as she looks away and begins setting up the station. Before long, Bucky is tied to a hook on the ceiling, arms raised over his head, body fully exposed. 

They’d had an argument about this. Steve had wanted to do something else, something wholly unlike what had happened to Bucky at the jail so many months ago, but Bucky had managed to convince him that this was best - the easiest way to show the panel just how much punishment he’s capable of taking. It doesn’t matter to him that it had previously been done without his consent; that’s in the past, and he’s determined to look forward. 

Not to mention the fact that he actually enjoys this, as long as it’s the man he loves wielding the whip. 

There’s a whole section of the room devoted to toys and instruments of sadism. Steve selects what he needs from a display on the wall. He lets Bucky look at it, lets Bucky kiss it, a good show for the judges and so fucking hot besides. Bucky’s cock strains, leaking precome all over the floor. If he forgets that there’s a panel of three people watching and judging this, he might actually enjoy this part more, might be able to come just from the pain. So might Steve, if he would only allow himself the pleasure. Which he won’t, because he’s a self-sacrificing idiot. Bucky figures they might as well get the most out of a shitty situation.

The whip flies through the air behind him and lands on his back. He cries out in mixed pleasure and pain. The hit was not delivered with a whole hell of a lot of effort - just a warm-up, really - but it’d surprised him nonetheless. 

Steve gets into a rhythm. It’s slow, because they have time to kill, and even with Bucky’s healing factor, he’ll be bruised and bloody for some time afterward. Bucky zones out, feeling nothing but the strike of the whip on his aching skin, the pounding of his pulse between his legs, the steady flow of precome leaking from his cock. Time moves like molasses; he’s so deep in subspace that it takes a long time to register when Steve has finally finished. They’re both panting with exertion by then. 

Bucky whimpers and gasps when Steve applies the healing salve, even though he technically doesn’t need it, but it would seem strange if Steve didn’t apply it. 

“Fuck, Steve,” he hisses under his breath.

“Hey, shh. I know. I know. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I will be. How many times did you hit me?”

“About forty. Your back is a mess. I’m sorry.”

Bucky turns to look at him, hating the guilt in Steve’s eyes. “Don’t be. That was amazing. If we’d been at home, I might’ve come.”

“Damn. It’s a good thing you didn’t, or we’d have been up shit creek.”

“True.”

“Gentlemen, if you’re done talking,” the assessor says, and Bucky feels revulsion rising within him, “you can prepare for the next part. You have five minutes.”

“I hate that woman,” he mutters.

“You and me both, pal. But we’ve got this.”

“Yeah. We do.” 

Or at least he hopes they do, but he doesn’t add that. They just need to get through the next section first. 

 

This time, they go through positions. Bucky’s reminded of a dog at a pedigree show, like Steve should be telling him to ‘kneel up’ or ‘heel’ instead of ‘position two.’ It’s even more difficult with only one arm, but he’s strong and can handle holding positions for as long as the woman requires. Super soldier stamina for the win yet again.

They get through the dog show with flying colors, and then comes time for - Bucky might as well keep using the metaphor - breeding. He stifles a chuckle at that; what he and Steve do together is pretty fucking far from breeding, but what the hell. Comes from the same drive, right?

The tasks ahead are monumental, and he doesn’t let himself think of the last one, the one they haven’t yet managed to pull off. One at a time is the plan. Steve’s gonna talk him through it. 

_ One at a time. Breathe. You’ve got this. _

He has to come for the panel three times, and in three different ways. They’ve set it up to be difficult such that Bucky has to hold off the first time, and after so much warm-up, he’s ready to come before the show’s even started.

Steve finally removes his own clothing for the panel; they look him up and down appreciatively, which is, quite frankly, insulting. He’d never realized he was the jealous type before; it’s probably just because this is The One for him that he feels that way. Steve catches him baring his teeth at the judges and shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Barnes. Stop that,” he commands, voice tinged with amusement.

“Sorry, sir. They just… look at you like you belong to them.”

“And I belong to you, is that it?” Steve asks, laying a quick kiss on his nose.

“Yeah, that’s it. Sir.”

“Relax, Buck. Just lay back and let me take care of you, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” he murmurs. 

Steve works him up efficiently, fingering him with one-two-three fingers just like that. They work together like a well-oiled machine. When Steve enters him, Bucky makes an undignified noise of pleasure, and then notices from the corner of his eye that the judges have started discussing something. He could hear them if he listened hard enough, but Steve is the only thing he can see, hear, or feel, the only thing he _wants_ to be aware of in that moment, and clearly, Steve feels the same. They stare into each other’s eyes as they make love in the strangest situation they’ll ever find themselves.

They’ve come up with a system. Steve knows him well enough now, knows how to bring him to the edge and back without taking his hands off of him, and they’re counting on that to get them through this part. It’s odd to have the panel watch them while they do it, though, and his exhibitionism kink kicks in at a bad time. They almost fail right there. 

“Shh, baby, remember to think of being taken away from me. Focus on that. I know it’s an ugly thought, but you need to back down, okay?” Steve murmurs to him, and thankfully, it works. 

He doesn’t come even after twenty awful minutes of being edged, with all those beady eyes on him the entire time making him want to let go so badly. 

Finally, their favorite woman in the world calls time. 

“You may come now, Mr. Barnes,” she says in a cold, clinical voice. 

But he waits for Steve’s eyes to give him permission before doing so, letting those perfect, slender fingers stroke him to bliss. 

“Baby, you’re so perfect,” Steve whispers to him when it’s over, when he’s back down to Earth. “One down, two to go.”

The next part should be fun: How quickly can Bucky come after his first orgasm? 

Turns out, really fucking quick. He’s a super soldier with a practically nonexistent refractory period when Steve does the right things, and  _ boy _ does Steve know how to do the right things. It takes him thirty seconds once he’s come down entirely from the high of the first orgasm, and even the panel seems impressed.  

Now comes the hard part. Bucky has to come untouched within another twenty minutes, after he’s just come twice in a row. Steve can touch his body anywhere except for his nipples, cock, and hole, something that seems a monumental task even for the most experienced dom/sub pair.

Steve knows him so, so very well by now, and Tony’s given them a lot of pointers, so he gets into the fantasy right away. The judges’ eyes help more than they hurt, so that’s not an issue, but it’s so difficult to resist reaching out and touching Steve or having Steve touch his cock while they do this, even though Steve is making it so good for him. Bucky wishes his dom could just tease him for hours, without all the pressure. It’s one of his favorite games, and he hates that this stupid assessment twists it into something so stressful. 

“Remember that time I had you wear the chastity device? How’d you like that, hmm? Bending you over and ramming you while you strained in your cage -”

Bucky moans loudly, and the judges sit up and take notice. 

_ This is officially the weirdest thing I’ve ever done. _

“ _ -god _ , how you fucking screamed for me, so good, such a good boy,  _ fuck _ I wish I could do that now…”

Steve keeps spewing filth, getting hard despite himself at the thought of the things they’ve done, the things they’ll do together, the way they’ll live their lives from here on out. He tells Bucky about what he wants, a submissive kneeling on the floor when he comes home from a hard day playing politician or a grueling mission, his submissive worshipping his feet, his body, bathing him, sucking him off…

“You have ten minutes,” one of the judges says, and  _ shit _ , Bucky’s right back out of it, aware that in ten minutes and one second, he might be torn away from Steve forever if he’s unable to come without being touched, that none of those lovely things Steve says will ever happen. It seems impossible; how does anyone else do it?

Goddamn his luck, and goddamn Stark tech, and goddamn all of it to hell.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Bucky,” Steve tells him, snapping his fingers in front of Bucky’s face. “Focus on me, okay. Just on me.” 

He continues in that soothing voice, that sexy, rough voice that gets Bucky going every time. Steve’s really getting into it, far more than either of them thought he would with their audience, and Bucky’s able to get pretty close. Just not quite close enough.

They’re getting down to the wire now, both of their eyes beginning to fill with tears. It doesn’t look like they’re going to make it; even with the magic between them, it’s not enough to make his body do something it just isn’t cut out to do. 

“You have twenty seconds. You must come for us, Mr. Barnes, or be failed.”

Steve closes his eyes and so does Bucky, trying so hard to just make it happen; it’s psychosomatic, right? Mind over matter? So why can’t he fucking do it?

Steve is whispering to him now, asking him to open his eyes and see him. Bucky does because he wants their last moments together to be intimate, special, never mind the other eyes on them. 

“Fuck them,” Steve whispers to him, tears dripping down his face and onto Bucky’s own. “Come for me, Buck.”

Come for Steve. 

Steve.

He takes a deep breath, feeling the heat build deep inside himself, like he’s drawn to Steve’s voice, his command like a magnet. 

“Ten seconds.”

“ _ Fuck them _ ,” he repeats. “Come for me.”

Yes. Yes, Bucky can do that. Bucky wants to do that, irrespective of time or place. 

“Come for me, Buck. Now!”

The light blinds him as consciousness leaves him.

 

He wakes to find Steve carrying him across the floor toward the panel, undoubtedly wanting to get out of here before Bucky drops. It’s rare for him now, but this is exactly the kind of situation that’d do it. He’d dropped hard after their first time in front of Tony, and this is so much more than that. 

Why don’t they test the dom on aftercare? Why not that? 

He swats at Steve to let him down. This panel doesn’t need to see anything that intimate between them, despite what they’ve witnessed already. Bucky can hold it together a little bit longer.

“Your beta is well trained, Captain Rogers, if a little… unconventionally so.”

_ Don’t say it, Steve, do not say it. We did well, just get out of here. _

“We didn’t need to do some of those things, if you don’t mind me saying so, ma’am. They weren’t specified in what we were told to expect. Are you sure it was all on the up and up?”

_ Shit _ .

Steve’s jaw has firmed up again, but at least his stance is relaxed, non-combative. But he just had to go and say it, didn’t he? Can’t leave well enough alone. Bucky tugs at him; they’ve been given leave to go, and it’s past time. The panel seems pretty happy with what they’ve accomplished. 

Their assessor - heaven help him, he hopes he never sees this woman again for as long as he lives - rolls her eyes. 

“Captain Rogers. You’re embarrassing yourself now. If you have a complaint, you may take it up with the state. Good luck with that, ‘cause you’re hardly the first. Now, please leave. We have other assessments to see to.”

With that, she turns away and confers with the other judges. The two of them have been dismissed. 

And they won. They had to have won. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Bucky and Steve have their second assessment. Bucky is forced to remove his arm and inspected by one of the assessors. They make Steve give him an enema in front of them, and then beat him. They are then given a test to see if Bucky can hold back from coming, to see how quickly Steve can make him come, and to see if he can come untouched. If they fail any of these, Bucky will be taken away from Steve. 
> 
> I questioned whether or not I should actually write this chapter since it's fairly extreme and I wanted to keep this fic out of the trashcan. I was convinced to include it and I think it makes the fic better, but be aware that it might not be an easy chapter to read. I wouldn't be upset if you skipped it entirely.
> 
> For those of you who did decide to read it, I hope it satisfied your curiosity and lived up to expectations.


	13. Chapter 13

  
  


Thank God it’s over.

They’d gotten through their assessment with flying colors. It was all Tony’s coaching and Bucky’s character that made it happen; Steve just showed up and, ironically, did what both of them had told him to do. And it had worked.

Once they’d gotten over the awkwardness of Tony Stark watching them… fuck… Bucky and Tony had almost instantly grown closer, like Steve’s earlier wish for them to get along had been fixed by a magical fucking genie. It’s weird as hell for Steve, given his previous conversations with Tony, but it makes him happy, too, to see his submissive and his colleague get along so well. 

Plus, it had been well worth it. This might never have happened without Tony. They owe him a lot, more than Steve would have ever wanted to owe someone, but here they are. And he’s got much, much more to ask of Tony before this thing’s through. 

As he watches Bucky undress for the evening, shoulders slumped with exhaustion, something occurs to him. Steve reaches out and removes the black collar, the one that had been wrapped around his neck like a goddamn noose for too long now. 

Bucky makes a sound of protest. “Steve, it’s okay,” he says, grabbing him by the wrist.

“No, it’s not. They’re not getting away with it anymore. Your assessment is finished, and we killed it. It’s coming off.”

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs, wrapping his arms around Steve’s back, hugging him tight and snuggling in close, “it’s okay, really. I like wearing it for you.”

Steve pulls back, shocked. He’d assumed that Bucky hated the damn collar; he knows  _ he _ hates it, that’s for sure.

“You do?”

“Why do you sound so shocked? Of course I do. I love being owned by you. Sir.”

Steve’s eyes are wide and his cock half-hard despite himself. “Even after this? After what happened to you, to us, today?”

“That had nothing to do with this, Steve. Nothing.”

“Or everything, maybe?”

Bucky sighs; it sounds suspiciously like the sighs Steve gets from the other Avengers when he’s being thickheaded again. 

“Nothing to do with this, you got that?  _ Nothing _ .”

Steve leans in to kiss him, feeling lightheaded with the vehemence in Bucky’s voice, the words Bucky hasn’t yet spoken obviously hiding there in plain sight. 

“Okay, Buck. I got you. But this one’s coming off. I have a right to put my own on you, and I’m going to do that if it’s what you want.”

Bucky looks down shyly and then back up, forcing himself to meet Steve’s gaze. “I want it, Steve. I really do.”

That makes Steve feel giddy, like he should be dancing around the room, Bucky on his arm. Steve’s never wanted to dance before. It’s an exhilarating feeling. Briefly, he imagines the two of them dancing at their wedding, and winces. They can’t do that given their statuses. But someday. Maybe someday. Steve can dream, at least.

Someone had once told him that he couldn’t change the world, only move with it. Eighty years later, Steve stopped aliens from taking over the earth. 

_ The hell I can’t. I wear the shield to protect people, and protect them I shall. _

Decision made, he pulls back and looks Bucky square in the face. “I’m not letting anything happen to you that you don’t want to do, Buck. Are you absolutely certain?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky murmurs, and leans in to bite his lip. “I want to wear a collar for you. Not the state. You.”

Steve smiles against his lips. “Then we shop for one tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky says, before Steve carries him all three feet to the bed. The words are like a benediction. 

It’s over, and they’re still whole.

 

_ “I’m sorry, we’re going to need you to remove his arm.” _

_ “His… what? Why?” _

_ “Please do not argue with the panel, Captain Rogers. Remove Mr. Barnes’ arm. He cannot wear a weapon during an assessment. He shouldn’t be wearing one at all, given his status.” _

_ “Like hell he’s gonna take it off. It’s his arm!” _

_ “Steve,” Bucky whispers to him then. “It’s alright. Let’s just get it over with, okay?” _

_ Steve looks at him and knows he can’t argue, no matter how unjust it is. Today is not about fighting injustice; it’s about survival. They’ll do what they have to do, and he can curse the world up, down, and sideways about it later.  _

 

Steve wakes with a shout, throwing the covers over his sweaty body and running for the bathroom. He throws up the little he’d had to eat yesterday, and slumps against the toilet, exhausted. 

Okay, so it’s only over in the most immediate sense. But still.

“Stevie? What’s wrong, babe?” Bucky’s sleepy voice sneaks up behind him. Damn, he’d forgotten Bucky could do that now.

“Nothing. Go back to bed, okay?”

It’s nothing. It’s always nothing with Steve, right? He snorts at himself; king of the suppressed, indeed.

“But you need me-”

“I said go back to bed, Bucky. That’s an order.”

“I - but... Yes, sir,” Bucky replies in a voice full of confusion. 

Goddammit. It’s over. So why does it feel like it’s not?

 

_ Bucky writhes underneath him, looking every inch the fucked-out mess that he is. They don’t have much time left; he has to make Bucky come without being touched at all, and they’ve never managed it, either by themselves or with Tony watching. Steve has faith that they can do it, but it’s slowly running dry. And he can’t lose Bucky, he can’t! _

_ “You have five more minutes,” says a bored voice from their left. _

_ Steve grinds his teeth together. It’d be nice if they’d stop reminding them about the situation. Steve’s trying to get his submissive into this fantasy, thank you very much, and it isn’t working with them blabbering on about the time and their technique and everything else they’re doing wrong. _

_ As time runs out, Steve holds onto his hope against hope, Plan Z, the one thing he thinks might make Bucky get over his self-consciousness and just let go. It’s risky, but they are out of options. _

_ “You have twenty seconds. You must come for us, Mr. Barnes, or be failed.” _

_ Steve closes his eyes on a prayer and opens them to see deep into Bucky’s, remembering the way they’d looked through his apartment window. Sunlight on still waters. His life, his hope, his home. The tears are flowing freely from those beautiful eyes now. He breathes deep and takes the plunge. _

_ “Fuck that,” he whispers, voice rough and with tears welling in his own eyes. His erection has been flagging, but thankfully, Bucky’s hasn’t. Bucky’d discovered he was more than a little bit of an exhibitionist, thank goodness. They’re banking on that, too. “Fuck them. Look at me, Buck.” _

_ Bucky does, coming up from the depths of despair to meet Steve’s eyes. Steve tries to project all of the kindness, compassion, and love he feels for this man into them.  _

_ “Don’t come for them, Buck. Fuck them,” he repeats. “Come for me. Come for me, Bucky.” _

_ Bucky’s back arches - he’s close, a hell of a lot closer than he’d been a few moments before, that’s for sure. Hope rises in Steve.  _

_ “Come for me, Buck. Now!” _

_ And, with seconds to spare, Bucky spews hot over the both of them, his third orgasm in thirty minutes, and all at Steve’s command. All for Steve. _

 

This time, Steve wakes up with an erection, and wonders what that says about him.

 

*******

 

“Perfect! Again!”

“C’mon, super soldier, Cap’s gonna kick your ass if you’re don’t start protecting your right flank!”

“Fuck off, Tony! Nat just said it was perfect!”

Steve gives Bucky a feral grin, crouching just across the mat from him. Bucky’s been doing extremely well, picking up fighting like it’s second nature now, and maybe it is. Maybe the serum they’d reconstructed was similar enough to Steve’s own that Bucky’s eye for tactics had increased tenfold. Of course, neither of them had been a stupid man before, but Steve’s serum had, at least, changed his mind a lot more than it could’ve if he’d simply been taught by the book. 

And if Nat says something is perfect, it means Tony’s full of shit. Probably trolling Bucky. 

Steve inexplicably giggles at the word ‘trolling,’ something he’d just learned about a few nights ago while sitting on the couch with Bucky and reading internet news articles. Why the word makes him laugh so much, he’s got no idea. Maybe it’s because he learned it with Bucky. His lover, his submissive, his best friend.

He must be making that sappy face again, the one Tony’s been teasing him about every time Bucky’s around. Bucky grins back at him and charges, nearly catching Steve off guard. He pulls the shield up at the last second, sweeps his legs in front of him and lunges to the side, showing Bucky exactly why performing a full-frontal attack is a bad idea.

Or maybe Bucky just wants to jump Steve’s dick. That is also a possibility. 

He stands above Bucky’s supine form, placing his foot on his chest and grinning smugly down at him. Bucky licks his lips and stares at Steve’s; oh, he definitely wants it. Steve feels himself grow a little harder in his workout pants.

“Aw, penis, no,” whines Clint from his perch in the rafters.

“I know, right? Keep it in your pants and get through one session without having to go fuck, would you?”

“Shut up, Tony!” Steve yells.

“Yeah, Stark, shove it!” 

“Bucky Barnes, you’d better be nice to our friends, or I’ll have to punish you.” 

Steve tries to make his voice stern, but it’s hard to hide the excited grin. They’re free of the spectre that’s been hanging over their heads for their entire relationship so far. They get to make it up on their own now, whatever it is they want to do with and to and for each other. How can the team blame him for being hard half the goddamn time? It shouldn’t take more than a look at his submissive for them to back off. Not that he minds the teasing.

They’re probably jealous. Or is it envious? He can never remember the difference.

“Take me to bed,” Bucky says to him in a low voice. Belatedly, he realizes he’s been staring at those grey-blue eyes for who knows how long - Tony’s left, Clint’s shaking his head at them from the ceiling, and Nat’s looking at them fondly, not that she’d admit that to anyone.

He offers a hand to Bucky; Bucky fakes overdoing it and winds up in Steve’s arms, which makes both of them laugh.

“C’mon, you,” he murmurs against Bucky’s lips. “We’ve got some negotiating to do before anything else happens, though. You got that?”

Bucky groans, both in frustration and pleasure. Steve is well aware that Bucky gets off on the service aspect of the relationship just as much as he does the sexual. He wants to serve Steve; breakfast after Steve’s morning run, massages every day, washing him clean in the shower while on his knees. All of that, Bucky adores. 

Steve does, too.

He decides to carry Bucky bridal-style down the hallway to the elevator. Bucky makes a noise of protest when Steve picks him up, but doesn’t fight to get free. Instead, he grabs Steve by the neck, pulls his head down, and roughly kisses him. Steve nearly runs into the wall, unable to concentrate with all his blood rushing south. Several of the verified (former) SHIELD agents that serve as bodyguards and trainers at the facility chuckle as the two walk past; the secret of Bucky and Steve’s relationship finally got out when they showed up for their assessment a week ago, and the paparazzi took it and ran with it. 

Steve doesn’t care now, because they made it out of the city safely and without a tail. Until they can do something about rooting Hydra out of SHIELD and potentially out of the government, Steve’s just happy to have Bucky safe and in his arms.

The instant they’re back inside their suite, he slams Bucky against the wall, harder than he would’ve before Bucky’s enhancement, and his lover gasps. It’s incredible, just rubbing up against him like this. Everything between them is so electric. Steve’s only regret is that they’ve gone through so much of their lives without each other.

“I thought you weren’t gonna fuck me,” Bucky gasps. 

Steve steals his breath with a searing kiss, then pulls back and bites his lip hard enough to draw blood. He sucks the lip, tasting the metallic tang of Bucky’s blood, and Bucky’s legs give out. The only thing holding him up is Steve. And Steve has no problem with that whatsoever.

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Well, in that case, get me to the bedroom, STAT.”

“So pushy! You want a punishment?”

“You keep threatening me with one. When are you gonna follow through?”

Steve doesn’t like  _ actually _ punishing Bucky, and so far it’s been rare for him to have to do something like that. A real punishment, that is; the fake kind is another story. 

As for regularly scheduled activities, though, Bucky had asked for something a little… special this time around. Bucky’d even had Nat train him, this time in something entirely different than what Nat had taught him in the gym.

But it’s just as sexy, even more than Steve had imagined it would be.

It takes awhile for Bucky to come out of their luxurious bathroom, but when he does, he takes Steve’s breath away. Medium red lipstick - not too slutty, but definitely naughty enough - dark blue eyeshadow with blue eyeliner, and slicked-back hair that frames his face - just this is enough for Steve to grow painfully hard in his workout pants. Belatedly, he realizes he needs a shower, but it’s too late now. He’s gonna fuck the pants off of his submissive just like this. Figuratively, of course, because the evening gown is almost more than Steve can stand. 

It’s blue with bright sequins haphazardly adorning it, making it seem wonderfully chaotic in the dim candlelight Steve has set up. Even the gleam of the metal arm adds a certain  _ je ne sais quoi _ to it. Steve feels like it’s awakening a demon within him. The dress is form-fitting as hell, too, which means he can clearly see that the whole get-up has affected Bucky in much the same way. 

“Wow,” he breathes.

Bucky blushes bright red, a Steve-style blush if there ever were one. Steve bets it goes all the way down to his toes. He’s torn between wanting to rip the damn thing off of Bucky and leaving it on while they fuck - and that word’s getting easier and easier to use in relation to this particular activity, because ‘making love’ is just not appropriate in this situation, despite the romantic atmosphere. Steve’s gonna fuck him alright, as in fuck him  _ up _ .

The candlelight glows golden on Bucky’s face. Steve can see him starting to drift off into the haze of subspace, right where Steve wants him. 

Steve has a change of plans for the evening. Ever the gentleman, he approaches Bucky and whispers against his lips, “Can I beat you in that gown?”

They both love skin-to-skin contact, of course, but Bucky shivers at the idea. “You’re asking me?” His voice is already slurring. “You’re the dom here, buddy.”

Steve lightly runs his nails over Bucky’s scalp before grabbing a fistful of his soft, freshly-gelled hair and pulling his head back to nibble not-so-lightly down his jaw, chin, and neck. Bucky moans at both the display of dominance and the physical touch, and goes weak in Steve’s arms again. Steve absolutely loves it when Bucky can barely stand, and he goes into headspace so quickly that seducing him is simple.

“God, you’re incredible,” he says into Bucky’s neck. “Just so fucking pliant and needy and perfect for me. Never thought I’d have this. Never.”

Bucky whimpers at the words and the breath on his neck and Steve’s commanding presence. Still with his fingers tangled in Bucky’s hair, Steve brings his other hand up and wraps it around Bucky’s neck, not exactly tight, but not loose either.

“You gonna be a good boy for me, hmm?” he asks, fingers squeezing just a bit more.

“Mmm-hmm,” Bucky answers, eyes closed and relaxed as Steve’s ever seen him.

“Use your words,” Steve replies with a hint of steel in his voice.

“Y...yes, sir.”

“Good.” 

Steve bites his neck hard, knowing the mark will fade and disappointed by the fact. He carries Bucky to the bed, because right now, Bucky is one hundred and seventy pounds of dead weight, incapable of moving. 

“You think you can lean over the bed for me, baby?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky mumbles, and Steve wonders if he’s just saying it to be agreeable. He’ll have to watch out for his safety; Bucky is sometimes unaware of what’s happening to him in the midst of a scene.

“Color, Buck.”

“Green. So green. Like grass. Really fuckin’ green grass.”

Steve chuckles as he goes to the closet and pulls out the belt. It’s one of Bucky’s favorite toys; Bucky likes to push a little harder than Steve is comfortable with sometimes, considering the strength behind Steve’s arm. He’s begged for a single-tail, but they haven’t gotten that far with everything that’s been going on. They’ll get there, though. Steve’s still learning Bucky’s particular language, but they’ll get there.

“I’m gonna fuck you up,” he promises. 

And then he strikes Bucky right smack on the meat of his ass. 

“Fuck!” Bucky yells; Steve had hit him a little harder than the point where they normally started. It’s a test of sorts. “Do that again!” he yells with enthusiasm.

“Really, Buck? Sure about that?” Steve asks teasingly before giving him another rough hit. 

“Yes, yes yes yes  _ yes _ oh god  _ yes _ , please, sir!” 

Steve lets him have it, hoping that whatever serum Bucky received will allow the marks to remain for at least a little while, the way they wouldn’t on Steve’s own skin. He allows himself to get into a rhythm, part of him watching Bucky carefully to make sure he’s in a good state of mind, since he can’t really communicate very well. 

When Steve has deemed that Bucky has had enough, he checks in, rubbing his submissive’s ass and listening to Bucky make little mewling noises. He knows he’s gone pretty hard on him, but the sight of Bucky lying there in his evening gown, looking fucked-out and drenched in sweat already, has Steve wanting to fuck him more than anything ever has.

He grabs the lube, shaking so hard with excitement that he almost drops it, and slicks two fingers up, shoving them roughly inside his submissive. Bucky yelps, but it fades into a moan of pleasure as Steve stimulates his prostate. The gown keeps wanting to fall back onto Steve’s hands, so he has to take a second to secure it around Bucky’s waist, exposing his wonderfully red ass in the meantime. His mouth waters with desire and he redoubles his efforts to get Bucky ready for his cock. 

It doesn’t take long. Bucky cries out as Steve enters him, one nice, long, slow push into that silky heat that surrounds Steve like a white-hot vise. Bucky tightens around him like he was born to take cock, and maybe he was; maybe that was the point of this whole thing, but it’s okay now. They passed with flying colors, or at least he’s pretty sure they did, and now they can make of it whatever they please.

Steve pulls his hips flush against Bucky’s red ass, and a rush flies through his groin and up into his spine at the feel of the hot flesh against him. He grabs Bucky by the hips and keeps him almost kneeling with his arms on the bed so Steve can fuck him hard and fast, the way he’s always wanted to fuck a submissive but couldn’t because of the serum. Now that he knows Bucky can take it, he lets go completely, reveling in Bucky’s moans and groans and cries as he takes Steve deep. Steve aims for Bucky’s over-sensitive prostate, knowing his body well enough that he can hit it without fail. Bucky shouts his pleasure into the covers, voice hoarse from the day’s activities. Between that and Steve’s thighs slapping against his red ass, it’s all Steve can do to avoid spilling inside him too soon. He wants this to last and last.

But it can’t. They’re only human. Steve finally angles a sharp thrust downward into that little bundle of nerves inside Bucky, hitting it straight on, and that’s it - they’re both coming all over Steve’s bed, Steve unable to hold back when his submissive tightens around him so much it’s nearly painful. 

Bucky falls to the side when Steve relaxes his grip on his hips, which makes both of them giggle pitifully; it’s been a long fucking day for both of them, and they barely make it to the other, rarely-used bedroom in their shared suite before passing out, Bucky still wearing makeup and an evening gown too fancy for the come leaking out of his ass.

But fuck it. They’ll worry about dry-cleaning later.

 

*******

 

_ “You’ve failed.” _

_ “What? How can that be possible? We did everything right - “ _

_ “You have no right to this beta, Captain Rogers, and must hand him over to the state within twenty-four hours or be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Is that understood?” _

_ Steve stares at him like the man has three heads. Like this shouldn’t be possible. Dimly, he wonders if the three-head metaphor stands for Hydra or just his utter shock at having failed the test they so desperately needed to pass. _

_ “How? How is this possible?” he asks them hollowly. _

_ “Time ran out,” the man says simply, before turning his back and leaving Steve speechless. _

_ “But we didn’t run out,” he pleads with the closing door. “We did everything we were supposed to do.” _

_ Steve puts his head on the table - an interrogation table, he realizes; they’re in a police station - and bawls like he’s never bawled before. One thought keeps going round and round in his head: How will he tell Bucky? _

 

Steve jerks awake again with tears in his eyes and a bad feeling in his gut. Luckily, he doesn’t wake Bucky with his terror, and he thanks God for that. He ends up going for a run in the early morning light. 

The jog should be a pleasant one, given the weather. Upstate New York is beautiful at this hour and this time of year; his breath mists in front of him as he pants in the still air of the woods. But the stress doesn’t leave his body; if anything, his muscles get tighter and the anxiety grows within him, something that’s never happened during or after a run like this. 

So Steve does what he always does when he’s emotionally overwhelmed. He hides it from himself and buries it, does everything he can to stop it from taking over by running faster and faster until the sweat drips from him in rivulets. It’s potentially dangerous to do that through the woods at the Avenger’s compound, given how many rabbit holes and tree stumps are on the barely-worn footpath out here, but he doesn’t care. He needs to run from his demons. No matter what Nat says, it’s always worked for him in the past.

A murder of crows stares at him eerily as he crosses the open yard back to the compound, a bad omen if Steve’s ever seen one. Maybe cuddling back up with Bucky will help. He’s out of ideas otherwise.

 

***

 

Tony gets everyone’s mail delivered here through his own system for safety’s sake. He opens Steve’s sometimes; they don’t care much about that sort of thing any longer. Tony has watched him fuck and play with his submissive; what else is there to hide? Turns out, today’s the day they get their results, and Tony finds out before Steve does. He surreptitiously grabs Steve out of the training room where Bucky is currently trying to out-finesse Natasha, which will never happen but is fun to watch anyway. Steve chuckles as Bucky feints left and Nat catches him around the waist, showing surprising strength as she forces him to his belly on the ground. The day’s gotten better after the nightmare, but not by much. At least Steve isn’t in danger of throwing up anymore.

“Steve,” Tony says in a soft voice, one that Steve will recognize later as pitying. “We need to talk.”

And there are those four words that are among the scariest in the English language.  _ We need to talk _ has never once been a good omen, either, any more than a murder of crows watching someone like they’re mounting the gallows. Before Tony even hands him the letter, gentle as giving a ticking bomb to a baby, Steve knows. He  _ knows _ . 

He’s not turning Bucky in, though. Not by a longshot. The government’s already possibly corrupted by Hydra from the bottom to the top. And the Avengers are backing him. He’ll fight the goddamn king of the world for Bucky now.

 

***

 

Things change for Steve after that, though. Gone is the happy-go-lucky attitude he’s adopted since the assessment. He becomes withdrawn. The whole team is concerned for him, of course they are, but what can any of them do? How can he possibly protect Bucky? 

How could any of this have happened to them?

Steve knows - one hundred percent - that this is because of Hydra hiding one of its heads up the government’s ass. They can ask for a reassessment or challenge the decision, but it won’t matter. They performed everything to code, and there’s no other explanation.

Even with the serum, his face becomes drawn. Dark circles settle under his eyes, something he’s never once had to deal with. 

But the worst part is feeling like he’s disappointed Bucky. Like he’s failed Bucky yet again. Bucky tries to get close to him, telling him that they’ll be alright, they’ll find a way, everything’s alright, but Steve turns him away. And that hurts him - probably not as much as it hurts Bucky, but still. There’s a hole in his heart where Bucky used to be, and Steve knows that all he has to do is reach out, to his friends and to his submissive especially, but he just can’t seem to make himself do it. 

_ You’ve got the emotional intelligence of a slug, Rogers, and that might be an insult to slugs. _

Thanks to his behavior, Bucky doesn’t sleep with him anymore, doesn’t even sleep in his suite. He throws all of his energy into learning from Tony instead. Steve never sees him, and he suspects that Bucky is making sure it remains that way. God, his heart aches.

The crows follow him. Steve considers them his friends now, even feeds them. They take their own special place in his heart, black eyes both knowing and unknowable. He runs through the verdant forests surrounding the compound, knowing that the Avengers are safe from the prying eyes of the government here, but he can’t seem to outrun the demons. He doesn’t understand what’s happened to him. Why he has to be like this. Why he can’t take the one thing that makes life bearable and hold it close to his heart like he wants to do.

Well, he knows why, just not  _ how _ . It’s because he’s afraid it’ll be taken from him, afraid they’ll win. 

But haven’t they won already? If this is the outcome, haven’t they won?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. :(


	14. Chapter 14

The mood is somber when Steve stalks into the Avengers meeting room. The group is so obvious in their collective attempt not to stare at him that he still manages to feel like he’s been thrown into the spotlight.

All of the Avengers have assembled, along with a few trusted STRIKE team members and Nick Fury, who Steve hasn’t seen since before the trip to Siberia. He looks somewhere between angry and annoyed, but what’s new? That’s just his default state. 

Bucky is noticeably absent.

Steve sighs and sits in the chair at the opposite end of the table from Fury; hot mess or not, he’s still this team’s leader, and they have a job to do. But the first item of business is far from what he expects.

Fury pins him with his stare. “It’s come to my attention, through your colleagues, that you haven’t been acting very professional lately, Captain Rogers.”

His jaw wants to drop to the floor. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that you’re not in a position to lead this team unless you get some professional help first. I am here to see to it that you do.”

Steve casts a glance at everyone: Natasha staring back at him calmly, Clint chewing on the end of an arrow with eyes on his shoes, Bruce not looking at him but looking guilty as sin, and so on. He sighs, knowing he’s outnumbered. 

“What do you need from me?” he asks. He tries to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but it seeps in anyhow. Steve never could hide those kinds of things from people, even mild cases of it, and this is the biggest betrayal he’s felt in a long while. 

“What I need is for you to take this seriously. We have good intel that Hydra’s ready to make a move inside SHIELD, and the team needs you prepared.  _ I _ need you prepared.”

He stands and starts to pace. “Do you really think I’m not taking it seriously? That I don’t know we’re in deep shit?”

“Captain Rogers, you need to sit down-”

“No, Director Fury, I’m not going to sit down. We’re in such deep shit it’s not even funny anymore. We’ve got Pierce and half of SHIELD implicated in some grand scheme of Hydra’s, and who knows how far up the ladder that goes? We’ve got the government looking for my submissive, who won’t even speak to me, so they can take him away from me. I’m a nervous wreck and the team’s on edge because of it, and you think I don’t know this? And you want me to go see a therapist so they can, what, tell me I’m  _ repressing my feelings _ ?” 

Clint chokes from trying not to laugh at the irony of that statement, and Steve turns his glare on him. 

Steve seethes. “Very funny. You want me to see a goddamn therapist, I will. As soon as we get to D.C. to scope this project out, I’ll see one. But don’t you dare tell me I can’t lead this team well enough. No matter the circumstances, we still have a job to do, and I’m a fucking professional!” 

Tony blanches at the very un-Captain America-like cursing as Steve turns on his heel to leave them staring in silence, Fury included. They’re right, of course they are, but he’s got too much pride to admit that out loud. 

The team treats him like he’s an out-of-control child for the next few days. He wanders the halls and goes on long runs and still doesn’t see a lick of Bucky. Steve would march to Bucky’s new rooms - if he knew where they were; this place is large and Bucky’d asked to be moved to private quarters - and talk to him if he could. Or  _ maybe _ he would. After all, he knows full well where Stark has Bucky working in the lab, and he could go down there anytime, but he doesn’t. 

On the day they’re set to leave for DC to plan their attack on the Triskelion, Steve breaks down and asks Tony for directions to Bucky’s new suite. Tony looks at him with pity and tells him. 

When he gets there, he raises his fist as though intending to knock. That’s all it’d take, one little knock, and they could fix this. They’d have a shot at it, anyway. 

One little knock. 

He can’t do it.

But he can do something else. Thankfully, he’d prepared for just this scenario - if there’s one thing that can be said about Steve Rogers, it’s that he knows his own shortcomings pretty damn well. Not that he’s great at communicating that, but internally speaking, Steve is well-acquainted with the extent of his issues. And in this case, that turns out to be a good thing.

He leaves the letter taped to the door like in an old-fashioned love story and leaves for Washington.

 

***

 

Steve officially hates this place.  _ Hates _ it. He’s heard all kinds of rumors about the modern-day V.A. hospitals, but this takes the cake. An hour and a half intake line just to get into the damn building, then hundreds of questions by an overweight lady sipping on a shake and talking to him in the most uninterested tone he’s ever heard. Like any of the problems that veterans have are not really her concern; she just works here. 

This was a terrible idea. He should’ve just tempted fate with SHIELD. 

Three hours after he made it to the hospital, Steve finally finds his way to the group therapy room. There’s a circle full of men and women talking quietly, waiting for the - social worker? Therapist? He’s not sure either of those is right. But they’re waiting, and he wants to reach out and talk to them, but the same problem that he’s had since coming out of the ice pops up. How are these people supposed to relate to him? Sure, they’ve likely all seen combat, seen some fucked-up stuff in their time, but to lose everything they’ve ever had and wake up in a new century? 

No one can relate to that. No one. So he stands in the corner and waits.

Then - lo and behold - the guy he’d been teasing on this morning’s run, Sam Wilson, walks into the door on the other side and leads the group discussion. He’d had no idea this was what Wilson did at the V.A., but it doesn’t surprise him in the least. The man has a heart of gold; Steve discovered that within a minute of their first conversation.

Wilson locks eyes with him and beckons him toward the middle of the room. Some people stare - it’s not often that Captain America himself comes into your group therapy session - but for the most part, everyone welcomes him like just another veteran. He gives Wilson a nod of thanks and sits down to share a part of his story. Obviously, Steve can’t talk about Bucky or the things that are currently going on, since those are classified, but the terror and heartbreak of the war are surprisingly easy to discuss. He hadn’t realized just how much pain he’d been carrying on his shoulders since he’d come out of the ice. 

Sam approaches him after the meeting. 

“How you feelin’?”

“Honestly? A little surprised. That went better than I expected it to.”

Sam gives him that toothy grin. “That’s what I like to hear!”

Steve smiles back, the most genuine smile he’s had since the day he got the letter stating he’d failed the assessment and the government would be taking Bucky from him. “Look, I owe you one for inviting me to this. Otherwise I’d have been stuck with some one-on-one deal, and who knows how that would’ve gone? Might’ve come out feeling even worse. Let me take you to lunch.”

Sam cocks his head. “You don’t owe me anything, man. This is my job.”

“You went above and beyond to help me out. Let me make it up to you somehow.”

“Alright.” Sam still seems unsure, but Steve turns on all the charm he has at his disposal. He knows how effective it can be, and predictably, Sam follows him to the artisan cafe on the corner like a lost puppy. 

“So what’s really up with you?” Sam asks him after they’ve ordered a couple sandwiches and expensive gourmet coffee that Bucky would absolutely adore. 

Steve startles. “What do you mean?”

Sam leans in. “I mean what’s going on with you? All that stuff you said in the meeting - yeah, it’s on your mind. It’s gotta be, given the war wasn’t all that long ago for you. But that’s not what’s weighing you down, is it?”

Steve’s not sure why, but there’s something about Sam that makes him want to spill all his secrets. Even state-guarded ones. 

“... no. No, it’s not.”

“Alright.” Sam settles back into his chair once more. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it. Unless you’re gonna tell me about certain illegal things, then I gotta turn you in. Mandatory reporter and all that jazz.” 

He looks a little disgusted, and Steve wonders what kinds of things Sam’s seen and heard to make being a mandatory reporter seem distasteful.

Ugh, but he wants someone to talk to so badly.  _ Needs  _ it. 

“The thing is, there’s a lot I can’t say. Even within SHIELD, there are few that have the clearance to actually discuss some of the things I have to deal with. So it makes the pool of qualified people shrink quite a bit.”

“I can imagine.”

They stay silent as the waitress brings them their sandwiches and refills. 

Sam looks at the table with a thoughtful expression. “What if I talk to you as a friend, rather than a therapist?”

“Wouldn’t help the whole clearance issue.”

“I could get clearance pretty easily, I think.”

“How’s that?”

“Remember how I used to be pararescue? Well, there’s somethin’ I was leavin’ out. I was part of a special program, and I think SHIELD could use my expertise. For a price, of course.” Sam’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight coming through the window.

“And you think you could get conditional clearance right away, is that it?”

“Bingo. Then you could talk to me like you’re a human being instead of Captain America.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “You’re on.” 

It might be foolish to trust someone he’s only just met - in fact, he can guarantee that Fury will be pissed when he finds out about this little excursion. But Fury had wanted Steve to talk to the ‘good guys,’ get the kind of help he’s needed for a long time. Steve’s not sure why, but Sam Wilson  _ feels _ like one of the good guys. There’s no other way to explain it. 

And heaven knows he could use a friend. 

 

When they make it to Sam’s home, Steve spills. All of it. SHIELD, Pierce, Bucky, the works. Everything alarms Sam, of course it does, but strangely, Bucky seems to be the thing he fixates on the most.

“So he’s your slave, then?”

“Don’t call him that.” Steve makes a face.

“The law calls him a beta, but we both know he’s no more than a slave.” Sam eyes him shrewdly, awaiting his reaction.

“I don’t care what the law calls him. He’s my  _ submissive _ .”

“Alright, man. That’s good to know, though.”

Steve cocks his head but doesn’t ask why. “I just left him like that. So many things unsaid, you know? What if I’m arrested while I’m here? The government is not happy with me right now, for a number of reasons. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if they tried to arrest me.”

“And cause a media shitshow? You’re Captain America. Half the country would be up in arms about that. It ain’t worth it.”

“It’s not like I’m that recognizable. Without the shield and uniform I look a little bit like a normal guy. If I wear a hat. And maybe glasses.”

“Maybe. But the press would recognize you. And they’re everywhere. It’d be hard for them to keep this quiet.”

“Well, that’s what I’m banking on, but it’s not a guarantee. If I’d brought Bucky and shown my face in public, they would absolutely have arrested the both of us. They’d have a legitimate reason to.”

“Not if I had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t.”

There - that’s the second time he’s said something like that. 

“How so? What is it that  _ you’re _ not telling me?”

“Steve, you’re not the only one with secrets. A lot of people are mad about the same things that concern you. Maybe I can help in more ways than one.”

 

*******

 

Nat shows up at the safehouse looking more distressed than Steve’s ever seen her. His guard is instantly up.

“What?” he asks.

“Not yet. Wait until Stark is back. He should be here shortly. I called Clint over from the coffee shop down the road.” She rolls her eyes. Clint and his damn coffee. “Hill’s on the way, too. How long have you been here?” Nat assesses him, really getting a good look for the first time that afternoon. “What happened? You’re not all tense and angsty.”

Steve splutters, choking on nothing. “I am not angsty!”

“More often than not, you are, Steve.” She grins at him smugly.

“That… is not a nice thing to say, Natasha.”

“And now you sound just like gramps. Like Bucky would call you.”

They both wince; she probably shouldn’t have mentioned him. But she’s right, it is what Bucky would’ve told him. Might still end up telling him, if he can get his head out of his ass in time. 

“Yeah,” he says softly.

“But something is different today. Wanna tell me about it?”

He glances at her. Natasha can be hard to read much of the time, but he’s learned a few of her tells. Her face is open - as open as it ever gets, anyway - and Steve thinks she really does want to know. 

“I met someone.” Her eyes open wide in surprise before he realizes how that sounds. “Not like that! A friend. Someone we can trust.”

“SHIELD verified?”

“Nope.”

She  _ tsks _ at him. “You know better than that, Rogers.”

“Is this place bugged?”

Nat shrugs. “Not anymore.”

“So you don’t trust them, either.” 

She says nothing; he has a point.

“Right. I want to bring this guy up to the compound. I think he can help us in more ways than one.” Steve neglects to tell her just how he can help them; that will have to come later. Right now, they’ve got (regrettably) bigger fish to fry. Natasha’s face is a clear giveaway on that front.

“Tell me about him.”

“Why don’t we just meet him tomorrow?”

“We’ll have to leave here as soon as this meeting’s done.”

“Why?”

“We have three days to come up with a plan and execute it. This is big, Steve.”

He straightens up, all thoughts of Sam and Bucky and social justice gone. “Tell me.”

“So pushy.”

“Nat,” he says warningly.

“Bare bones, then. Do you remember Project Insight?”

“Of course I remember.”

“It’s Hydra’s.”

“... how?” Steve asks, bewildered.

“That’s what I’d like to know. There’s a goldmine of data at the Triskelion, but I need to be on site and start a chain reaction before I can get ahold of all of it. Pierce has to be there for the higher-level clearance stuff. It’s pretty heavily guarded, and even I am not that good. From what I do know, however, we need to move fast. They’re sending up helicarriers in three days. Twenty million people, all deemed threats to Hydra, will die within the first two hours of those helicarriers going up.”

“And we have to take down all three?”

“Even one is far too high a death toll, Steve.”

“Shit,” he curses, and that’s an understatement. “Any idea how much of SHIELD has been infected?”

“‘Infected’ is a good way of putting it,” Nat sighs. “About half, if I had to guess.”

“Can we get a signal to the rest? To be ready to fight?”

“I’ll patch you in when we’re at that point. So yes, you’ll have to incite them to riot. There might be guns pointed at their heads by then, though. Steve, people are going to die.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Steve.” 

His jaw is tight. He’s not budging on this. “Nobody is gonna die on my watch.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, but doesn’t argue. They both know it’d be a waste of time. People are going to die, and Steve is going to blame himself. Tide goes in, tide goes out.

“There’s more to it than that.”

“More? Isn’t twenty million enough?”

“You remember the Winter Soldier program?”

He stiffens. “Bucky.”

“Yeah. They have serum, Steve. More of it. More soldiers. They’re torturing them to death. None have survived the experiments; Bucky probably wouldn’t have lasted a week in their hands.”

“How are we supposed to fight all of this?”

“One thing at a time. Insight first. Then we can start talking about the serum. I have a few ideas on that front, too, don’t worry.”

“You really are the best, aren’t you.” It comes out as a statement.

Natasha nods in acknowledgement. 

“Well.” He sighs. “One thing at a time, I guess. Is Wilson in or out?”

Nat studies him for a moment, then frowns. “Who do you think is leading this team, Rogers? Me or you?”

“Not the point. I don’t want to bring someone in if you’re uncomfortable. I’m a leader, not a dictator.”

Her face softens. “Call him if you think he needs to be here. I trust you, Steve.”

That means more to him than he can even say. “Thank you.”

He calls Sam, who says he’ll be at the safehouse in twenty, and settles in to wait. And of course, now that his emotions have settled a little and he’s really ready to work for the first time in weeks, he gets the message. 

 

_ The collar came today. If you still want me to wear it for you, I’ll be waiting. _

_ -B _

 

He can’t hide the tear tracks on his cheeks from the team. Nor does he want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos. You guys are really making my day(s) so much better!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

 

_ Bucky, _

_ You should know I’m not very good at this sort of thing. The other Avengers like to joke that I’m emotionally stunted, and maybe they’re right. Truth is, I have no excuse for how I’ve been treating you. I wish I could say I don’t understand what’s come over me, but I do, all too well.  _

_ I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved. Mom. Peggy. Now maybe you. _

 

Bucky loosens his jaw purposefully, trying not to grit his teeth down to the nubs.  _ You haven’t lost me yet, you dumb shit. _

 

_ I couldn’t bear to face it, knowing we’d be split up. Knowing you’d end up in god knows what situation, unable to get out. With someone who doesn’t know you, appreciate you, love you like I do. _

 

So that hadn’t been his imagination in the bunker. Steve did say ‘I love you.’ Bucky sure could’ve used those words a few weeks ago. Steve had been acting like he was the only one affected, when what they needed most was each other. And as his beta, Bucky had needed even more from Steve. Needed the reassurance that he’d fight for them. That he’d protect Bucky at all costs. 

In other words, Bucky needed Steve to be his dom; more than that, his master. And Steve had failed in a spectacular fashion.

_ Because I really, really do love you. You have to know that, right? I didn’t say it before Siberia and I hated myself for it. I’ll say it a million times over if it makes you not mad at me. I love you, Bucky. And you didn’t deserve this. You deserve it far less than I do. _

_ Give me a chance, and I swear I’ll make it up to you.  _

_ With all my love,  _

_ SGR _

 

Bucky finishes his third re-read of the letter, this stupid letter written on stupid white paper by his stupid dom. He leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head, thoughts going fifty miles per hour in no direction in particular. He wants nothing more than for Steve to make it up to him, and of course he’ll forgive him - it’s not like he doesn’t get it. The fear, the knowledge that someday you might lose each other. That’s heavy shit, and with what Steve’s been through… well, he gets it.

But Bucky has no intention of putting away all this anger and hurt without first confronting Steve. That’s for damn sure.

The clang of the doorbell reverberates throughout his suite, making him jump.  _ Shit, it’s them. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck - _

Even though the compound has many highly-trained SHIELD operatives and several other staff members, it’s a little scary without Steve and the Avengers. He knows that they’re willing to protect him now, that they consider him a member of the family, but if they’re not at the compound and the government shows up, there’s nothing he can do about it but bow his head and follow them to lockup. They’ll train him to be something he’s not. He’ll end up stuck with an abusive master, down on his knees every second of the day to please him, and potentially come up short. He’ll never escape, and all he’ll be able to think about is Steve, how Steve loved him and cared for him and made his life better and how he’ll never see him again...

Yeah, he needs to calm down a little bit here. Counting chickens before they hatch has always been a problem for him. 

He’s still in his pathetically empty suite cowering at the dining table when Jarvis interrupts his thoughts.

“Mr. Barnes, there’s a package left at your door.”

Oh. Oh  _ no _ .

“Thank you, Jarvis.”

The package reads ‘Happy Grant,’ which is code for ‘Steve.’ Obviously, the world can’t know this is the secret site where the Avengers train and occasionally (or now, possibly permanently) live, so Tony had given them all nicknames. Bucky’s pretty sure this one is supposed to be ironic. 

He doesn’t want to open it, because there’s only one thing it could possibly be, but he can’t help himself. Whether he gets to wear it or not, he has to see it. He has to know if it’s as beautiful as Steve had promised it would be.

Sure enough, it is. Sturdy black lace infused with flecks of gold, a special fabric that cost Stark a fortune, which Bucky knows is far stronger than it looks. There’s a D-ring on the front of the collar, and an inscription on the inside that brings tears to Bucky’s eyes. 

_ Still waters run deep. I’ll be lost in yours forever, if you let me. _

Bucky doesn’t freak out or throw anything. He doesn’t break down right there at the kitchen table. Instead, he walks carefully to his new bedroom, lies down on the sheets that smell far too clinical and not enough like Steve, and cries quietly. 

_ Of course I’ll let you. Of course I will. _

 

_ *** _

 

It’s not that easy when Steve gets back, though. They’ve gotta talk about a number of things, the priority being the fact that Steve is a walking train wreck when it comes to his emotions.

Bucky greets the team politely, happy to see them, and gives Sam a warm smile. Whoever that guy is, his calm demeanor instantly sets Bucky at ease. At least until he sees Steve.

Steve’s face is contoured by anxiety. He’s flushed red, not the rosy red that blooms when he takes control of Bucky, nor the crimson of embarrassment; rather, it’s a sickly red, and it makes him look old, like so many other things seem to. His eyes are bloodshot, too. Bucky meets his gaze and nods to show that they’re on the same team, and Steve breathes an audible sigh of relief. Hell, Bucky’d said he’d be waiting, right? What’d Steve think that meant?

As he leaves them to their debriefing, Bucky passes Steve and brushes his hand lightly against his dom’s. “I’ll be in our suite when you’re done,” he murmurs so that no one else can hear.

Steve stares at him longingly as he walks out the door. 

 

Their suite is just like he remembers it. It smells like vanilla and lavender, his and Steve’s favorite scents combined. Nothing has changed; it feels like Bucky had just walked out of here this morning. 

He wipes his sweaty hands on his jeans and tries to sit on every piece of furniture in the open living room/kitchen combo. Nothing is even approaching comfortable, so he gives up and starts to pace the room. They haven’t even had the conversation yet and Bucky’s already exhausted. 

Finally, he lies down on the floor in surrender and forces his body and mind to still. It’s much easier than it used to be before Hydra or whoever gave him the serum. He only hopes that this newfound brainpower can be put to good use, namely, getting Steve and him back on the same page.

When Steve walks in, Bucky doesn’t glance over. He’s facing away from the door, so he just stays in place. Steve’s eyes are like little feet crawling all over him, but Bucky stays firm. Let Steve come to him.

His dom finally sits next to him, cross-legged, right there on the living room floor. Bucky tries not to look at him, but that’s petulant and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t be that way. 

Steve nudges Bucky’s hip with his toe but can’t meet his eyes. “Hey,” he says in a small voice.

_ You fucked up, _ Bucky thinks.  _ You’re an asshole _ .

“Hey,” he says instead.

They sit there for a few minutes, feeling the tension in the air between them grow thick with things unsaid. 

Bucky decides to break the silence. “I got your note.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Why couldn’t you tell me in person?”

“Coward.”

Bucky eyes him. “Real tough guy, huh.”

“And a softie, too. For you.”

Bucky blushes bright red. “Well, Mr. Softie, do you want to explain yourself?”

“Other than the fact that I’m damaged goods?” Steve gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“Aw, don’t give me that shit. Don’t try to hide behind your emotional constipation, Rogers. Why didn’t you want to fight for us? Huh?”

“I do.”

“Sure didn’t seem that way.”

“I do. I always did, Buck. You’ve gotta believe me.”

“Well, wanting and wishing go hand in hand. This is something you need to face, Steve. It’s possible we’ll be split up. It’s possible I’ll be stuck with someone else, someone that doesn’t feel anything for me. Someone abusive. I could be a real slave. That is a reality, and if I have to face it, so do you.”

Steve shudders. “I can’t even imagine-”

Bucky grits his teeth. The anger pumps through him like a shot. “Fucking hell, picture how this goes for me! You _ have _ to imagine it! You’re not the only one in this relationship! It’s not all about you and your comfort zone, it’s about reality!”

He watches Steve swallow his words. He doesn’t say anything, no arguments or justifications. Nothing. Just sits there, waiting for Bucky to say what he needs to say. 

“You know, maybe they’re right. Maybe I do need to be controlled in every aspect of my life. Maybe I am incapable of actually taking care of myself. You know what I’ve gotten done this week? Fuck all. I’ve gotten FUCK all done, Steven Grant Rogers, all because you can’t man up and handle your responsibilities. So if they’re right, maybe I do need a master and not a dom. Someone who can actually take care of me.”

A tear makes its way down Steve’s face, but he still doesn’t say anything.

Bucky’s had enough. He wants it to be over already. “I need you to talk.”

“I want to change it. I want to change myself, how I act. How I react. How I protect you and take care of you. Better.”

Steve finally looks him in the eye, imploring. Bucky can see his earnestness. He feels his anger breaking down even as they speak. Now he just feels bewildered more than anything. 

“Just why, Steve? I don’t understand. Or maybe I do, I just want to hear it in your words.”  Steve runs a hand through his hair. After a full day of ‘spy activities’ and travel and debriefings… or whatever it is that Steve does… his hair’s a mess, sticking up and out every which way. 

Adorable is what it is, and screw Steven Grant Rogers for breaking his resolve down just by being himself.

“It’s like I said in the letter. I’m afraid I might lose you.” He shrugs helplessly.

“... so you thought that making sure you lost me would help that somehow?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes? I don’t know. I have a tendency to run away from my problems, or better yet, use my fists against them. This is… abstract. It’s not something I can punch away.”

“Yeah, I get that. But we’re not just talking about you here. You’re responsible for me, Steve. Legally - well, not anymore, technically. But as my dom, with or without the law, you can’t leave me hanging like that. You just… ran away from a person. Not a problem, Steve.  _ A person.  _ A person you professed to love.”

Bucky’s voice has taken on a lecturing tone, and Steve is listening intently. Good.

“I do love you.”

“Then just… be there for me. With me. We might not be able to beat this together, but we sure as hell don’t have a chance alone.”

A few more tears squeeze from the corners of Steve’s bloodshot eyes. Bucky sits up and wraps himself around him like an octopus. 

“Hey, don’t cry. There’s no reason to cry. We’re in this together, and I love you.”

Steve chokes out a laugh. “Thank goodness, or you wouldn’t put up with me otherwise.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

They tentatively smile at each other. Impulsively, Bucky leans in and kisses Steve, a  _ welcome home  _ kind of kiss, and that’s exactly what it feels like - being home with the one he loves. Right where he is, where he’s supposed to be. 

Everything’s going to work out fine.

“I’m still mad,” he says against Steve’s lips.

“I know.”

“‘K. Long as you know.”

Steve does what he usually does and shuts Bucky up with another kiss, this one searing. Bucky can’t help but melt into it. Steve keeps kissing him, soft and rough and everything in between, over and over until he can barely keep a breath. He’s enhanced now, sure, but his lungs still need air to function.

“You realize,” Bucky gasps between kisses, “this isn’t what people usually do when they’re mad.”

“I know that, too,” Steve says into his jaw, nibbling and sucking on the skin there. “But you’re not complaining, are you?”

Bucky climbs into Steve’s lap, pressing himself against his dom and fitting their bodies together as snugly as possible with clothes still on. He grabs Steve’s hand and settles it onto his groin. 

“This seem like a complaint to you?”

Steve palms him through his clothing, knowing exactly what Bucky enjoys. It’s been so long since Bucky’s been touched like this, and he’s missed Steve so much that he almost comes in his jeans when that hand starts working its magic. He grabs Steve’s wrist to stop him, but Steve won’t have any of that. He removes Bucky’s metal hand and forces it to the floor, pinning Bucky with a look that brooks no argument. Bucky has no choice but to dismount, lie back, and take whatever it is that Steve wants to give him. 

Despite the fact that Bucky’s so eager, Steve takes his time. He removes his clothing and lies down next to Bucky, motioning for Bucky to do the same. When they’re both naked, they take each other in hand. Steve leads, like a dance, forcing Bucky to slow down and just enjoy the moment. 

When Bucky can’t stand it anymore, he begs Steve to let him come. Steve, of course, says no.

“Steve, please… Jesus,  _ fuck, _ ” Bucky hisses as Steve rubs the crown of his cock with his thumb. “I can’t hold back…”

“Shh. Yeah, you can, Buck. Wait for me.”

“But I don’t want to wait! I  _ can’t _ wait!”

Steve tightens his grip at the base of Bucky’s cock. “I said wait.”

Bucky shivers at the commanding tone. “Steve, I can’t…” 

He knows he’s whining. He knows it. But still… it’s a biological drive… how is he supposed to hold off any longer? This is the longest he’s ever gone edging, even longer than at the assessment.

Steve strokes him to the edge again and stops, leaning in to crowd Bucky’s space. He bites Bucky’s earlobe and murmurs, “Now don’t squeeze those muscles. Nice and open. Relaxed. Don’t come, unless you want it ruined.”

Bucky does his best to obey as Steve edges him over and over again. Steve whispers filth into his ear with his hot breath, drives him wild with just his hand and his words. He does his best to keep stroking Steve, pulling the foreskin up and over before gently peeling it back on the way down, squeezing a little around the head, just the way Steve likes it. 

“Get me there, and you can come with me,” Steve whispers, but how the hell is Bucky supposed to focus on getting Steve off like this? He can’t think straight, and the world is all fuzzy and soft. It’s such a deliciously cruel game. Bucky can’t believe Steve is this devious.

He doesn’t want to lose this. And even though Steve’s an idiot, the love in his eyes as he tortures Bucky with pleasure screams that he doesn’t want to lose it either, that he needs it just as much as Bucky does. That he needs  _ Bucky _ , not some other submissive. That Bucky is  _ his. _

He stutters out a choked cry at that thought and spills over Steve’s hand just a few seconds before Steve does, unable to hold his orgasm off any longer. 

Steve cradles him in his arms and pulls Bucky to him so that Bucky’s face is almost mashed against Steve’s chest. They both take a few minutes to collect their breaths; Bucky is still flying off into the sunset and needs a bit more time than Steve to come back down to Earth. Steve holds him all the while, and it feels like he’d never left. 

“God, I’m so sorry,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s hair.

Bucky picks his head up so he can look Steve in the eye. “Don’t be sorry. Just treat me like I’m yours. That’s all I ever wanted from you, Steve.” 

Steve hums his agreement and squeezes Bucky tighter, but it doesn’t take long for the living room floor to get uncomfortable, so Steve grabs him and carries him into the bedroom. It’s the first time since the letter was delivered that Bucky’s been there, and he falls asleep the minute his head hits the pillow. 

 

***

 

The next morning, all he gets from Steve are goofy smiles and rosy cheeks. And kisses, lots of those. And the opportunity to really be of service, to kneel at his feet and do his bidding, a chore at a time. Wash him in the tub. Make him breakfast. Massage his feet. Kneel and take his meal by hand. It’s a fantastic day, at least until Natasha comes up to visit.

She couldn’t have come at a worse time, either. Bucky’s nude and wearing his new lace collar, sitting on Steve’s lap and eating from his hand. Bucky’d made an all finger-food dinner just so that they could do this together, and even though Natasha knows in theory that these things happen, it’s still humiliating.

Which of course makes his cock take interest. Of _ course  _ it does.

He feels the blood rush through his body as she takes in the scene with a raised eyebrow. Steve, the asshole, isn’t even fazed.

“Hey, Nat.”

“Hey. Am I walking in on a moment? I can come back in a bit.”

“No, no, that’s okay.” 

Bucky, who has leaned his head against Steve’s ridiculously muscled shoulder, bites him. 

“Ow! Bucky, what…?”

Natasha laughs. “That was for you letting me waltz in here with him naked on your lap.” She glances down at Bucky’s exposed body and smirks. “ _ Mazel tov _ , by the way.”

Steve chuckles, giving Bucky a sweet, slow kiss before letting him move off of his lap. “Go get dressed and come out looking presentable.” He swats Bucky on the ass as he walks off. Bucky feels his entire body turn red from the attention. Like it wasn’t bad enough already. 

Or good enough, he’s not sure which. 

Steve and Nat are speaking in hushed tones when he comes out of his bedroom. It occurs to him that maybe he can eavesdrop - he’s stealthy as fuck now - but decides against it. That could get him in big trouble with Steve, real trouble. Is this stuff top secret? Is he even allowed to listen?

Hesitantly, Bucky makes his way into the living room. They pay him no mind, so he sits at Steve’s feet with his back to the couch. Steve leans over and absent-mindedly runs fingers through Bucky’s hair.

“Tomorrow night, then?” Steve is saying, and the trepidation in his voice doesn’t sound good. Not at all.

“Yes. We’ve got you and Sam each assigned to a helicarrier, but there’s a problem.”

“Third helicarrier?”

“Yep. Tony can’t get into the bay unless that door is open and he’s about as subtle as a firework. I need someone who can move like us.” She gives Steve a pointed look.

“Oh.  _ Oh. _ Right. Yeah, it uh… it hasn’t come up just yet.”

“Well it needs to come up like yesterday. Tonight, Rogers.”

Steve takes a deep breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

Natasha pats his shoulder on the way out. Bucky can smell her perfume: lavender, Steve’s favorite.

Behind him, Steve sighs. Bucky realizes he’s probably still tired from their trip to DC, and it sounds like more bullshit is in their future.  _ Dangerous  _ bullshit.

He looks up at Steve, sitting on the couch behind him; Steve stares thoughtfully right back. 

“Are you gonna be safe?” he blurts out.

One corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up. “I’ve got the best people in the world with me.”

“I’m so scared something’s gonna happen to you.”

“It won’t. Look, there’s something you and I need to discuss.”

“I’m listening.”

“God, there were so many things I’d wanted to do to you, but there’s just not time. We have to get this show on the road. Today’s been so great, hasn’t it?”

“Wanna live like this for the rest of my life,” Bucky agrees.

“We take down Project Insight, it’s the first step. Maybe we can fix this whole thing.”

This sounds interesting. “How is it the first step?”

“Well, there’s a lot of things that need explaining. But that can wait until morning. I wanna go to the gym now and spar. See how you’re doing in a fight.”

“Ooh. That sounds like fun,” Bucky growls. 

“Mm. We’ll see about that when I trounce your little subby ass.”

“Oh, it’s game on, then!”

“Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, Bucky and Steve finally communicated! Aren't you proud of them?


	16. Chapter 16

  
  


Steve knows he’s supposed to be paying attention to Bucky’s form. How well he dodges, feints, attacks. His reaction times. His ability to anticipate a particular move. All the things that would mean he’ll be safe tomorrow if they decide to take him with. _When_ they take him with them, because Steve’s not letting him stay here no matter what. Even if he refuses the offer, he’ll stay with air support.

And to an extent, Steve is watching for those things. Bucky’s safety is paramount, which means he’s always cataloguing the ways in which something could go wrong. This is a serious mission coming up, and it’s a bit like throwing a kid into the deep end and making him swim, but the team doesn’t have many options. At least this way, Steve can keep an eye on Bucky.

But his conscious mind? There’s just one thought that keeps running through it, and it’s driving him mad.

Bucky looks damn good fighting in that collar.

And it’s gonna match the rest of his outfit.

Briefly, he wonders if Bucky will care that they’ve made him an outfit to go with his metal arm, but Steve thinks Bucky is going to be head-over-heels for the whole getup. He’ll think it makes him look like a badass, because the truth is, it _will_ make him look like a badass.

A quick kick to the groin snaps him back to reality. Steve’s damn glad he’ll never have to fight his submissive in a real fight, or he’d probably be just as distracted as he is now. Compromised. By a pretty face and strong jaw and wavy, luxurious hair that he wants to run his fingers through so badly it’s like an ache… and then he wants to grip and pull that head back, kiss that pouty mouth…

Steve fails to duck out of the way of a particularly well-placed punch and goes flying. He briefly sees Bucky wince at the power in his own hands. Steve knows what that’s like, to suddenly be able to send someone flying across the room without even meaning to. He rubs his fat lip as Bucky walks over, looking contrite.

“It’s okay, I can take the hit,” Steve says before Bucky can express his guilt.

“I hit you so fucking hard, Steve, that could’ve been serious.”

“And it would’ve been, if I were anyone else. Yeah, you need to be able to pull punches once in awhile, and you’ll learn that when you get into real fights-“

“Wait, what? Real fights? Thought I was doing this for self-protection?”

“Uh, yeah. In a way. Listen, let’s go take a shower, and then we should talk.”

Bucky swallows. Steve watches his Adam’s apple as it bobs in his throat. He wants to bite it.

“Those aren’t words people usually like to hear, Steve.”

He huffs a laugh. “I know. It’s nothing bad. In fact, I think you’re gonna be happy with it. But shower first. Let’s go.”

He smacks Bucky on the ass and Bucky sends him a mock glare, but heads to the team showers. Steve steers him in the other direction, toward the door.

“What?” Bucky asks. “I thought we were showering?”

“Do you wanna be on your knees in the team shower? I mean, we could do that…”

“Jesus Christ, Steve. I see your point.”

“Good boy. I rather thought you would.”

“Also, is it okay if I say I kind of want to?”

Steve laughs. “Another day, sunshine.”

 

Bucky does all the things he did yesterday, trying out different things, compromising and negotiating on what their lives would - will - be like in the future. He services Steve in the shower, taking extra care to clean his sweaty skin, even going so far as to lick and suck on everything between his legs. Steve’s never had anyone tongue his ass quite like Bucky does, teasing him much the same way he enjoys teasing Bucky, and it’s heavenly. He decides to add that to their repertoire. Bucky groans with pleasure when Steve tells him so.

They end up making out in the shower for what feels like hours. The water doesn’t go cold here; thanks to Tony Stark’s renewable energy, the water heater at the compound can go on for years, so they can take as long as they want. It’s been a long day, though, and Steve still has plans for his submissive. Bucky makes a sound of protest when he reaches for the shower handle.

“Relax,” Steve murmurs against his lips. “I’m nowhere near done with you.”

Bucky swallows; this time, Steve does bite his Adam’s apple. Bucky steps out of the shower and bends over on purpose to give Steve a lovely view of his backside. It looks so delicious that Steve has to repay the favor. He eats Bucky out until Bucky can’t stand, so they end up lying on the floor of the bathroom like heathens. Which is perfectly fine in Steve’s book.

“Bed. Now,” he grits out when he’s caught his breath.

Bucky scrambles to obey, no doubt wondering what Steve has planned for him now. After the kind of day they’ve had, where Bucky’s been serving Steve in one way or another for most of it, the night will probably end quickly. They’re both too riled up after all the things they’ve played around with today.

The best part is that Steve has the protocol waiting for Bucky to sign. It might not be a legal document like it would in a dom/sub relationship, but it’s binding between them and that’s what matters to him.

It’ll just have to wait until after Project Insight has been taken down. Which gives Steve even more reason to get this thing done.

Bucky settles himself back on the bed with his legs spread, open and ready for whatever Steve has planned. After the excitement of the day and the anticipation of the upcoming fight, Steve is feeling eager. He climbs atop Bucky’s body and settles his thighs over Bucky’s shoulders, then smacks Bucky’s lower lip with his hard cock. A little bit of precome drips down onto it, and Steve shudders as he watches Bucky’s tongue slowly, sensuously lick it clean, eyes on Steve’s the entire time.

He’s pretty sure Bucky’s trying to kill him.

“You want it in your mouth, gorgeous?” he hums. “Want me to fuck your face?”

Bucky’s eyes get round, pupils dilating in the dim light of their bedroom.

“Fuck yes,” he whispers up to Steve, and then opens his mouth obscenely in preparation for Steve’s cock.

“Well, I ain’t gonna say no to that.”

James Buchanan Barnes was made to suck dick. He knows when to hollow his cheeks, to use his tongue for the best sensation, to open his throat and swallow or just take it. Steve fucks his face like he's never fucked anyone's, feeding his cock as deeply as Bucky’s throat can handle. He watches Bucky’s eyes bulge every time he thrusts in, and quietly revels in the hazy lust clouding them.

It doesn’t take him long to get off using Bucky’s face like this, especially not when his submissive grabs his hips and begs for more with just a look. How in the hell is Steve supposed to hold back when he does that? He grabs Bucky’s head and forces it up, impaling him on his cock, watching as Bucky licks his balls, shoving his tongue out as far as it will go. He comes like that, straight into Bucky’s open throat, Bucky swallowing around him.

When it’s done, he leans back and pulls out his softening cock. Bucky draws in several quick breaths and smiles at him like the cat that got the cream.

“Fuck,” Steve whispers in awe.

Bucky licks his lips, the little shit. “Yeah. Never had it like that before, have you?”

“Jesus. What have you been hiding from me, Barnes?”

“I’ve gotta have some secrets here, Captain.”

“You keep holdin’ out-”

“- you’ll have to punish me, yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“Oh, I’m countin’ on it.”

“Later. Right now I’ve got an idea.”

He dismounts, snorting when Bucky whines at the loss of contact. Their play chest is in a corner in the closet, and not for the first time, Steve wonders why they don’t just keep it right next to the bed. It’s not like they have anything to be ashamed of at this point. The entire compound knows exactly what Steve and Bucky are to each other, and the kinds of things they do. He makes a mental note to do something about that little inconvenience as he grabs what he needs.

Bucky makes a shocked noise when Steve shows him.

“Steve,” he breathes.

“Ever fucked someone like this?”

“No, sir,” Bucky whispers, still staring at the sleeve. “But I know what it is.”

“Good. I’m gonna go get ready and I want you to tease yourself. Make sure you stay nice and hard. I won’t be long. Ten minutes, maybe fifteen. When I come out, I’m gonna put this on you and ride you until I’m satisfied.”

Bucky gulps. “God.”

“No, no gods here. Just me.”

“You.”

Steve laughs at Bucky’s dazed expression and goes to the bathroom. This part is never sexy, but it’s something his body needs, as sensitive as he is to anything going inside him. He makes it as quick as he can, and when he comes out, Bucky’s still just as hard as he was when he went in. Good.

“Now. You’re gonna have to stay hard the entire time. If you get soft, the sleeve falls off. Then I don’t get to come, and you know what happens when I don’t get to come?”

“I don’t get to come, either, sir.”

“Good boy.”

Steve slicks up the inside of the sleeve and slowly slides it down Bucky’s cock. Bucky whimpers a little, probably imagining what’s about to happen, knowing he won’t get any pleasure whatsoever except for the pleasure of serving his dom. Steve has no doubt he’ll be able to stay hard the entire time, long enough for Steve to get his. He’s never once in his life allowed a submissive inside him without wearing a sleeve, and he’s not about to start now, but Bucky won’t mind. Bucky won’t mind at all.

Bucky was _born_ for this.

“Wanna come tonight, you’re gonna have to be a good boy and let me take it from you. Got it?”

“God, yes, sir. Please.”

“Mmm, I like it when you beg.”

Steve climbs on top of him with lube in hand and prepares himself, enjoying the way Bucky stares at him, enraptured.  He lets his head fall back as he fingers his hole, stretching it nice and slow, a little bit at a time. Bucky starts whining underneath him, so clearly wanting to give Steve what he needs, so eager.

 _Too bad_ , Steve thinks. _Patience_.

Okay, so maybe he preps himself a little longer than absolutely necessary, but it’s true - his submissive needs to learn a little patience.

As it is, Bucky’s hyperventilating with need when Steve finally sinks down onto his covered cock. His face twists up like it does when he’s about to come, and Steve absolutely cannot believe it. He stops his motions, sitting comfortably with Bucky’s cock buried inside him.

“Are you kidding me?”

Bucky closes his eyes and forces himself to breathe, one-two-three-four in, one-two-three-four out, nice and slow. When he’s sure he’s not gonna go off like a rocket, he opens them. Steve is staring at him with amusement and with not a little consternation.

“Sorry, sir. It’s just… so fucking sexy.”

“I’m not even sure I could be mad if you’d gotten off just then,” he admits. “This really gets you goin’, huh?”

Bucky blushes under his gaze. “Yes, sir. I love getting you off, Steve, however that looks.”

“Feeling’s mutual, gorgeous, but maybe wait until I’m done, yeah?”

Bucky smiles with those unbelievably white teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

Steve rides him slowly, lifting up and nearly off of Bucky’s cock before settling back down and squeezing his muscles. All Bucky can feel is a little bit of pressure, of course, and Steve can tell Bucky wants nothing more than to be able to feel his cock squeezed like that. Steve smirks at him, knowing all of this and knowing he’ll never let him. Knowing that Bucky probably recognizes that, too, considering the conversations they’ve had.

It makes his cock even harder when he thinks about it. There’s something twisted about that, but Steve’s not sure he cares.

He starts to rock back and forth, speeding his hips up and continuing to squeeze the sleeve inside of him. Bucky makes as if to grab his cock, and Steve nods his assent. Bucky’s hands are well-versed with his cock now; they know how to work the foreskin, even though Bucky doesn’t have one himself, they know how to squeeze the head of his dick just so - it’s all perfect. When Steve’s ready, he changes the angle just a tad, just enough to hit his prostate, and one easy stroke is all it takes. He shoots all over Bucky, who has Steve’s cock aimed straight at him. Steve watches from beneath hooded lids as Bucky dips a finger into the semen on his chest and eats it.

Damn, his cock hasn’t gone down a single bit. And Bucky’s hard as a rock in the sleeve, the whole thing seeming to have made him even more horny.

Steve lies down next to Bucky and pulls him over, so that his head is resting on Steve’s muscled chest.

“I want to know what you’d like to do now. Whatever you want tonight… well, within reason,” he snickers. “I know all about you and pushing the limits.”

“... This coming from Captain America.”

“Hey now. That’s different.”

“Yep, your life on the line.”

“Bucky Barnes. I’m not going to explain my reasoning to you. I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna understand more soon anyway. Now tell me, or I’ll pick something for you.”

“I don’t even need to get off tonight. I’ve served you all day and it’s been one of the best days of my life.”

Steve hums, amused. “So you don’t want it to end with a spectacular orgasm, then?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to, just that I don’t need to.”

“You know how much I like denying you, in other words.”

“Exactly,” Bucky sighs against his skin, breath hot and body hotter.

“I’ll suck you off, how about that?”

“Oh man, that sounds so romantic!” Bucky says with the air of a dame at the opera.

“You keep it up, I’m really not letting you get off tonight.”

Bucky snorts. “Already told you I don’t need to get off.”

“Fine. Been a long day anyway, and I got mine.”

“Steve, I really am happy enough with that,” he insists.

Steve glances down at him, those grey-blue eyes looking back up at him. “I know. It’s been an amazing day.”

“Yep. And I’m tired.” Bucky yawns to prove his point.

“I’ve got one last thing to ask of you tonight.”

“Name it, sir.”

“I want you to keep my cock warm while I sleep. Can you do that for me?”

“ _Oh_.”

“That a yes?”

“It’s definitely not a no. Fuck. Yes!”

“Enthusiastic, I see. Go turn off the lights and get back in bed. Curl up and put your mouth on me.”

Bucky does as he’s told, but of course, he has to ask a million questions before settling in. Just because he’s Bucky.

“Didn’t you say you had a protocol almost all written up?”

“I did, Buck.”

“Are we gonna-”

“Not just yet. Give it a few days, okay?”

“Yes, sir.”

Ten seconds. Then, “Do I get to show off again?”

Steve groans. “Who do you wanna show off for, Buck?”

“I don’t know. Tony again? He seemed to enjoy it before.”

“Would you like it if Tony fucked you this time?”

Bucky’s eyes go wide in the darkness. “You would let him?”

“Maybe I would, if my submissive would do what I asked him to do and wrap his mouth around me.”

“Mmm.”

Fifteen seconds.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Oy. This is the last question or else I’m gonna tie you up and force my cock into your mouth.”

“Ooh.”

“... Goddammit.”

“In all seriousness, though. Didn’t you have something to talk to me about?”

“Yep. Tomorrow.”

“Steve…”

“Shh. Get your mouth on me… yeah, like that. Perfect. You’re perfect.” He strokes Bucky’s hair and watches in the dark as Bucky’s eyes close in bliss. In almost no time, they’re both out cold.

 

*******

 

There’s no right way to ask someone to do this. Steve had ripped off the bandage for Sam, and Sam had readily agreed; maybe it’ll be that easy with Bucky. He hopes so, but suspects Bucky will be defiant just because it’s a shock, if for no other reason.

And he’s Bucky. The ‘beta.’

Steve snorts as he watches Bucky gulp down one of the big protein shakes that Tony makes for them. They’re disgusting. Steve’s maybe a little happy that someone else has to share in his pain now.

Bucky frowns. “What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about the downsides to being a super soldier. Those shakes being one.”

Bucky makes a face. “Yeah, that’s true. I try not to think about it, though.” He glares at Steve for bringing it up.

“The stuff you taste on a regular basis, and this bothers you that much?”

Bucky nearly spits out the shake. If he ever spit out Steve’s come like that, Steve would have to punish him for it.

“I can’t believe you sometimes, you know that? Captain America, what a dirty old man.”

“Join the Avengers.”

… Okay. That’s not how that conversation was supposed to start, but Steve decides to just roll with it.

“... I… What? Steve, I can’t. It’s illegal.”

“Yeah, I know. And I don’t care. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be me. You’re technically my ward, if no longer my property,” - his lips twist over the word - “and you can’t legally make a decision like this. I’m letting you make it, though. You said you want to change this, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but we’re already in trouble. They’ll take me away from you anyway, and then what if something happens to you on top of that? And - Steve, you just asked me to be an _Avenger_. I’m hardly qualified.”

“The Avengers are here to protect me. And you. And I guarantee you, our serums are similar enough that you could be thrown right into the middle of a fight and kick everyone’s ass.”

Steve sits next to Bucky on the couch and puts an arm around him. He can tell it’s going to take a little bit of convincing, but Bucky’ll come around.

“I don’t know, Steve. I don’t know if you can really promise me that. What if they do arrest you? I’m already scared they’ll take me away. Where will I be then? I mean, you won’t even be able to rescue me if you’re in jail, too-”

“They’re not gonna arrest me. A national icon?”

“Steve.” Bucky puts his head in his hands. “Steve. You’re responsible for me. And if you’re not there, I get passed to someone else. Someone outside of my control this time. I won’t get any choice in the matter. What if I’m paired with someone abusive?”

“I don’t think they’ll have put you with someone abusive in the time it takes me to get you out of there. You’ll probably just go to jail for a bit. I’m not leaving you, I swear it. I’ll find you.”

For that, Steve receives an incredulous look tinged with exasperation and not a little anger.

“You think people do what they’re supposed to do? Power hungry people? Steve, wake up! They’re gonna do something to me to get back at you. Hydra, or whoever the fuck you were talkin’ about the other night. The world isn’t this beautiful place where nothing ever goes wrong.”

“I never said it was - you know how I feel about the whole thing- “

“Yeah, well, you sure act like it sometimes. Like it’s all sunshine and rainbows and unicorns!”

Steve sighs and tries not to get upset. This is the reaction he should’ve expected. He could theoretically make it an order, but that’s not the kind of man he is. Very rarely has he actually ordered Bucky to do anything without giving him a choice in the matter. It’s one of the reasons he finds his flawless submission so beautiful; Bucky _chooses_ to submit to Steve’s will.

But he has to get on that quinjet either way. No way Steve’ll let him stay at the compound.

“I hate to admit you’re probably right, Buck, though I hope you’re not. But you’re being a brat right now. Just listen to me, okay?” he asks soothingly, not letting his frustration show.

It works. “Yeah, okay.”

“Neither of us feels this is right, the way we treat ‘betas.’ Hell, even submissives are robbed of too many rights, and I see that now. Plus the assessments… We know it has to end. Right? But if we want it to change things, well, sometimes we have to be a little brave.”

He reaches out and brushes the hair away from Bucky’s eyes. It’s getting long; he’ll have to have it cut soon.

“I was stupid as a kid, did you know that? Getting into fights I had no business getting in. Saving submissives out walking on their own who got caught by packs of rogue doms, not that there was a lot of that going on even then. But I did it even though I was ninety pounds soaking wet.”

Bucky smiles softly at him. “That sounds like you. Everybody’s hero.”

“I guess it does. It was why Erskine chose me, ultimately. I can’t sit by and let injustice occur. It’s not in my nature. And this is something I can do - _we_ can do - to stop it. I’m lucky to have a voice louder than what most people get. I wanna use it for this, because you’ve made me believe in this. And I want you by my side when I do it. But the choice is yours, Buck.”

His submissive is quiet for a few moments. Steve lets him take it in, soak up the words.

Finally, Bucky sighs. “I wanna say yes. Tentatively. But I need to think about it a little more, okay?”

Steve gets it, he really does. “Yeah, Buck. I understand. But we don’t have time, unfortunately. I should’ve told you yesterday, but I didn’t know how you’d react to this, and if you freaked out, well… I wanted to experience some of those things with you first.”

“Sap.”

“For you? Always.”

Bucky’s eyes go soft and a little shiny. “I love you. So much. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.” He takes a deep breath. “Yes, I’ll do it. But you’re gonna be there with me the whole time, right?”

_Whew._

“Okay. And yes, I will.” Steve picks him up and carries him to the bedroom, protein shake still in hand. “We leave at 22:00 tonight.”

“... the fuck, Steve?”

“I’m throwin’ you right into the fire, babe.”

“I don’t know if I can do that right away,” Bucky admits in a small voice.

“You absolutely can, love. And I’ll be right there with you. I have faith in you.”

Bucky sighs against his chest. “We fuckin’ again? Not that I’d mind. I’m ready for that orgasm you promised me last night.”

Steve shakes his head and chuckles. “Not quite. Got a little somethin’ I want you to try on…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some shit's about to go down, guys...


	17. Chapter 17

It turns out that Hydra has infiltrated every level of SHIELD. Top to bottom, the roster is dotted with black marks. The Avengers have enough data now to know, but it’s not even necessary at this point; they can see on the monitors who’s got guns pointed at whom. 

Steve shakes his head and sighs, long and tired. He doesn’t want to have to deal with this shit. Ever again. Maybe he’ll finish this, cut every head off of Hydra that exists, and then go retire somewhere in the Bahamas with Bucky.

If only.

He thumbs the paging system and gives a rousing speech that leaves him feeling hollow. Awakening in the twenty-first century only to have lost everything he’d ever known was bad enough, but now he’s losing the organization that had given him purpose for so long; without Bucky by his side, Steve’s not sure how he could’ve handled tearing it down. 

It is what it is, he supposes, watching Bucky watch him as he talks into the microphone. There’s so much belief in Bucky’s eyes, it makes him weak in the knees, but there’s also a lot of naivete there. Despite what’s happened to Bucky in the last few months, there’s still so much in this world that he doesn’t understand. Steve has lived past the point Bucky probably ever will, and even though he’d been asleep for most of it, he’s still seen so much more. Because of this, Steve feels responsible for Bucky for more reasons than just one, and he briefly panics at the realization that Bucky’s relative innocence will be chipped away, a bit at a time, because of this job, because of what they’ve asked him to do. 

Then again, Bucky will be a target just because of who he is. At least this way Steve can keep an eye on him. And at least this way Bucky can protect himself.

He shakes his head, preparing himself for the fight. They’re keeping watch on the monitors now, but soon this floor will be swarming with Hydra agents, and they’ll have to find a way to the lower levels where the helicarriers await them. 

“Ready, Buck?”

“Ready.”

“I love you.”

Bucky grins. “Love you too. Let’s get to it.”

“Here we go!”

They’ve worked on this, using the shield to disengage their enemies, non-lethally if possible, though Bucky seems iffy on that part. He believes in the  _ kill or be killed _ way of doing things, a lot like Natasha, so maybe he isn’t as naive as Steve had thought. Though that’s easy to say before you’ve actually killed someone.

At any rate, he’s about to find out.

The first Hydra agents rush through the stairwell door, guns up and ready, but Steve and Bucky are prepared and a lot faster besides. Steve tosses the shield at the first, and Bucky roundhouses the other two in one fluid move. They’re incapacitated before they’re even aware they’re being hit. Steve nods at Bucky and they make their way down the stairwell.

The next crowd of agents is a little bigger than the first; Steve and Bucky communicate wordlessly in the easy way of dom and sub as well as that of teammates who have trained well together. Their fighting styles match perfectly, Steve preemptively knocking out as many operatives as possible and using the shield as a defensive weapon while Bucky uses the metal arm to his advantage. Then Steve tosses the shield to Bucky who uses the arm to even  _ more _ advantage. It’s more brutal than Steve likes to see; probably several of these men and women that are hit with the shield like that will die or are already dead, but there’s not much he can do about it, and besides that, he knows full well that he can’t save everyone. Better to defend twenty million lives than worry about losing those of trained soldiers who go into battle willingly.

Though worry, he still will. It’s one thing to do what he has to do to save lives, but he’ll never take pleasure in the exchange of them.

They make it down the stairwell without pausing for breath, leaving a trail of Hydra soldiers behind them. Bucky’s breathing hard and looks flushed with the exertion, asking with his eyes if they can take a moment to get their breath back. But there’s no time.

“Remember how I said I was throwin’ you right into the fire?” Steve gasps, and Bucky nods, not able to answer with words. “There’s more where they came from. And Pierce still has the codes ready to go. We have to get to the helicarriers before they’re ready to launch. No other options.”

Bucky bends over, holding out a hand, and Steve lets him have a few seconds before grabbing him and running back into the building proper. 

The comm comes to life. 

“I’m ready to go in with Pierce. I might not be able to respond quickly. You’ve got about twenty minutes before those helicarriers go up.”

“On it. Good luck, Nat.”

“Same to you, Steve.”

“Alright. This place looks deserted. It’s probably a trap, so be careful,” Steve says as they walk down the inexplicably empty hallway.

Steve’s on the lookout for someone dropping from the ceiling or a bomb tripwire, but it looks like this is an undefended level since there’s nothing military here. It looks like offices and… well,  _ shit _ . Down one hallway, there are a bunch of laboratories, the shine of stainless steel equipment gleaming off of the windows. 

“Stay behind me, be on your guard. Watch our flank.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Steve pauses briefly in their creeping. “I’m not a cereal captain, Buck.”

Sam sniffs over the link. “You guys really gonna have this discussion over the team channel? When you’re right next to each other?”

“Didn’t you and Riley used to do this?”

“Not in the middle of fighting a reunited Nazi party, no.”

“Then how about you shut up?” Steve asks with a hint of amusement.

“Uh-huh. How close are you?”

“About five minutes away. Are you in position?”

“Yeah, but I hear something stirring in there. They’re probably comin’ online.  I’ll be in the bay in less than sixty seconds, but you guys gotta hurry.”

“Got it.” He switches off the channel only to see Bucky ducking down a side hall.

Goddammit.

“Bucky!” he hisses. “Get your ass back here!” 

“Steve!” Bucky hisses right back. “I heard them talking about the Winter Soldier program!”

Fucking hell. “Who? Bucky, there’s no one here!”

He stalks behind Bucky, on higher alert than ever. When he catches up to his submissive, he sees him staring through a glass window into a lab with one of those contraptions - the lab looks the same as the one in the bunker where Steve had found Bucky. 

So this is the R&D floor that Hydra had hidden right under SHIELD’s nose. But they don’t have time for it right now. Twenty million souls hang in the balance.

He grabs Bucky by the arm and makes a run back down the hall and in the proper direction. Where the lab techs went, or whoever they really were, doesn’t matter right now. 

The fight continues down the next stairwell. This time, they’re blindsided by a line going all down the stairs, lying in wait for them; Hydra must have gotten a game plan together. The rest of the way to the hangar will be like this, Steve knows. He looks at Bucky, who appears scared but determined. 

The first operatives throw themselves at them, and the ones immediately behind those and down the first flight aim their weapons. 

Steve unconsciously calculates the proper angle and extends his arm, throwing the shield in a cascade. He pulls it back to him and watches as Bucky dispatches the rest of the agents nearby. The stairwell smells like gun oil and the sweat of men in full stealth suits. Steve would never admit it to anyone, but that scent, the scent of a fight, makes him feel alive in a way nothing else can. He’s kidding himself if he thinks a retirement in the Bahamas will ever happen.

They make their way down the stairs, dodging bullets with superhuman strength, speed, and metal, fighting like a well-oiled machine. Steve’s heart nearly stops when Bucky jumps the rail down the remaining three flights, but Bucky just waves at him as he lands with grace.

The comm crackles to life just as Steve catches up to him. The exit to the hangar bay is through the door and down another hallway; Steve fully expects to be fired on the instant they walk through, and gives Bucky the ‘be ready’ signal. Bucky takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Steve? Nat’s gone silent. I think she might be in trouble.”

“No time to worry about that. What’s the countdown?”

“T-minus six minutes or so. You’ve gotta hurry.”

“You got yours in sight?”

“Yep. Gonna try and make a stealth landing; I’ll be in position in a minute or two to help you out. We’ve got Hulk on standby, though he seems pretty reluctant.”

“We’ll have to do what we have to do to get this done. He knows that. Final push.”

This hall is different than the previous one. There are no side paths with glass-walled sterile labs like the one with the chair. This is a long, dimly lit corridor, and it’s entirely empty. A little bit like a kill box, and Steve gets the chills. He glances over at Bucky, who is trying not to hyperventilate. Steve puts a hand on his shoulder, calming him down. It’s just the countdown to the final battle. The adrenaline always rushes hardest now.

“I love you,” he tells his submissive again. “I just want you to know.”

“Do you think we’ll make it?”

“We will. But you need to hear it anyway.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Again and again? You’re such a  _ sap _ .”

“ _ Your _ sap. Let’s go.”

Without further ado, they burst through the doorway. 

 

Sometimes, when a few minutes are boiled down to the slow stretch of seconds, they seem much shorter than they have any right to. It takes Steve and Bucky a few hundred to fight off all the Hydra goons thrown their way, and that’s with the Hulk’s help. Natasha has finished with Pierce, but the helicarriers are thrumming now and ready for liftoff. Iron Man is otherwise occupied. It’s all up to them now. 

Steve and Bucky each race to their respective carriers. Steve’s is empty; he makes it to the control console in record time and disables it.

Bucky is not so lucky.

Steve watches Bucky’s helicarrier lift off, dismayed; Bucky’s in a fight against three men, and more are filtering out from the bowels of the ship, and Steve has no chance of hopping across to it before the thing gets off the ground. The sound of the Hulk’s shouting reverberates around the open hangar bay, and  _ wow _ does Steve wish he had the Hulk’s reach right now, because Bucky is going to die if  _ someone _ doesn’t get over there quickly. 

Along with a good eight million people.

In the end, it’s Sam who saves the day, Sam who manages to take his helicarrier down and grab Steve with enough strength left over to toss him at Bucky’s. Steve hangs on to the side, scrambling his way onto the runway by using every bit of strength he has. Four men come running for him and he deals with them quickly, knocking two down with the shield straight away and maneuvering the other two into a disadvantageous position; one kick sends both of them over the edge and onto the sidewalk below. Steve winces as their bodies hit the pavement, but even if they’d been over the Potomac already, they likely wouldn’t have survived.

Nothing for it now. All that matters is -  _ shit _ . 

He makes a run for it and gets to the heart of the helicarrier, running past dropped agents all the way. Bucky’s done a good job, but it’s not going to be enough. He’s on one side of the control room, stuck fighting three men wearing full body armor, and he’s about to go down, but the console is on the other end of it. There’s no time to make it to Bucky, fight off the three Hydra goons, and manage to get the damn drive into the console. He has to make a choice.

Steve doesn’t hesitate. 

Like there was ever another possibility.

He makes a dash for the nearest goon, who is getting ready to stab Bucky with a wicked-looking blade, something almost like a sword, and who the fuck are these guys that they’re fighting with  _ swords _ ? He and Bucky have thirty seconds and counting to knock these guys out and get to the console, and there is definitely not time for a  _ sword fight _ .

None of the men are aware of him just yet, since they’re pummeling Bucky into the ground, so he sneaks up and punches the guy in the kidney, feeling sick to his stomach as he does so. Not much choice if they’re to do this. He slams his shield into the middle one’s head and listens to the sickening crunch of his skull. Distantly he registers Bucky’s horrified face and thinks _ this is the stuff they never tell you about being a hero. _

The third guy isn’t such an easy fix. He dodges Steve’s punch and is quick enough to pull Steve off-balance; Steve has to step over Bucky to reach him and the goon takes full advantage. Steve goes down as his kneecap gives way, thanks to a well-placed kick by his attacker. It hurts, but his scream is more out of frustration than anything else.

“What’s goin’ on over there?” Sam yells into the comm.

“We need help,” Steve gasps. “You? Tony? Can either of you make it?”

“Yeah, man, I’m right behind you. What do you need?”

“Right where the central console is. We’re in the chamber but we won’t make it in time.”

“Copy that.”

There’s no way Sam can make it in time either, though, not with thirteen seconds left on the timer. It’s up to Bucky now.

Bucky, who’s coughing up blood and leaking it all over the ground next to him.

Steve grabs the remaining Hydra operative and slams him down so that they’re both on the floor of the chamber, and uses his moment of shock to smash his head with the shield. Steve recognizes the man as Brock Rumlow, one of the most competent members of the STRIKE team that Steve used to lead. He’d actually liked Brock once upon a time.

Not sparing it more thought, Steve forces himself up on one knee, then the second, wincing at the pain as the limb tries to reknit itself. The serum’s healing factor is the only reason he’s even able to do this, pick Bucky up like they’d practiced in the gym and toss him across the room. Bucky wobbles but manages to stumble to the console just in time, despite the blood still dripping from his mouth and out of his chest. 

So it is that with two seconds to spare, eight million lives are saved.

But then the helicarrier starts to dip, and Steve realizes that without a predetermined flight path, the thing’s gonna go down straight onto the shore. And there is nothing the two of them can do about it. Stark might’ve been able to change the helicarrier’s trajectory, but he’s otherwise occupied still and they are dangerously close to the ground already.

The comm buzzes to life again. “Rogers! Capsicle! Got my shit together finally. Lots of -  _ whoops! _ \- bad guys hangin’ around this joint, did you realize this?”

“Uh, kinda in a tight spot here, Tony,” Steve replies as he grabs Bucky and makes his way down to the undercarriage. “Fancy a pickup?”

“Fancy a… what do you take me for, someone who would leave their friends high and dry? Or low and wet, as the case may end up being?”

“Funny. What the hell happened to Sam?”

“Got distracted.”

“He okay?”

“Yeah, Cap, worry about yourself here. You on the beams?”

“Yep, me and Buck. You got us both, right?”

“Oh ye of little faith. I estimate that monster’s got about ninety seconds to touchdown, and I’ll be there in twenty. We’ll have plenty of clearance. Hang tight.”

He desperately hangs on to Bucky, who seems to be veering in and out of consciousness. The wound in his chest is healing, but it’s not the only place he was stabbed, and there’s so much blood on his clothing, Steve’s worried he’s lost too much of it even with the healing factor. 

Suddenly, the carrier jerks, and Steve loses his footing on the beam, going down hard onto the still-healing knee. He screams in pain and loses control of Bucky’s body. Steve can hear the seconds slow, internal clock stabbing little pinpricks into his brain, as he watches Bucky slip out of his hands and off the rafter.

All he can do is stare.

“I’m not gonna get to him in time,” Stark tells him grimly. “Let’s hope he’s strong enough to survive the Potomac.”

“Forget about me - go get him!”

“I need you to get him from the water. This isn’t exactly a specialized suit for that. I mean, had I known, obviously, but I didn’t.”

Tony grabs him off the rafter and races toward the river.

The shore of the Potomac is littered with pollution from the nearby Capitol. Seagulls sing and cry their songs of sorrow over it, and Steve thinks he may be joining them soon if Bucky doesn’t breathe. 

He’d started doing CPR the instant Bucky was pulled from the river, but Stark had knocked him aside and let his suit do the work. Now it’s just a waiting game. 

Bucky’s first breath, a pitiful, wretched-sounding thing, makes Steve’s heart stutter like it hadn’t since 1943. The second brings tears to his eyes as he jumps on top of Bucky to pull him close.

“Careful,” Stark hisses. “He needs room to breathe.”

“He’s fine,” Steve insists, pulling Bucky into a sitting position and cradling him against his chest. “Look, his wounds are already healing.”

Bucky’s eyes roll as he tries to focus them. He starts to say something, but Steve just shushes him. 

“Hey, no, it’s okay. You’re good, you did great.”

Tony’s face scrunches inward. “Ugh, go be cute somewhere else.”

“Hey, guys?” Natasha asks over the comm. “You’ve got cops headed to you. Can’t promise they’re good guys, either.”

“How many?”

“Too many for you to get away from from your location, unless you’ve magically turned into fish and didn’t tell me about it.”

“Shit.”

“I got the files, though. Got everything I needed. Pierce is dead; I put a bullet straight through his brain. We can release this information to the public and they’ll never touch us.”

“They might touch me. I’ve got Bucky, remember?”

“Hang tight. Hill and I are already working on it.”

“So just get arrested when they arrive? Let Bucky go?”

“Might not have much of a choice right now, Rogers.”

Steve sighs. Figures. They just saved a lot of people, and they’ll be repaid with imprisonment. He supposes Stark could fly them away, but then what after that? Stark would be implicated, too. It’d just be more of a mess.

It’s time to face the music while they’re still heroes, and while they have something to bargain with. But how is he going to tell Bucky?

Bucky grips him hard, snuggling in close right there on the shore. “You came for me,” he whispers weakly.

“Of course I did.”

“You picked me. Over the rest of the… everybody. Not the console. Me.”

“I told you I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but I just…”

“Hey, shh, don’t move just yet. You’re still recovering. I need to get you some water. Stark?” Tony wordlessly hands over a canteen. He lets Bucky drink all of it.

Now comes the hard part.

“Baby, I’ve got some bad news.”

Bucky’s eyes widen. “They’re gonna take me, aren’t they?”

Steve closes his eyes, fighting tears again. “Yeah, Buck.” He swallows. “They are. But I swear to you, I’ll get you back. Don’t fight them, okay? Just let them take you where you need to go. Give me twenty-four hours, okay?”

Bucky nods tiredly against his chest. Steve wants nothing more than to cuddle with him in bed, bring him a big meal made for growing boys and wash the grime from his skin.

Neither of them resist arrest. Steve watches Bucky climb into the other cop car with his hands behind his head - position seven, that is - and prays that Hill and Romanov can work their magic. 

And Sam… might be time to call in a favor.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... from here on out, there will be a limited amount of legal proceedings and descriptions. I am not a lawyer. I have only the vaguest idea of how the courts actually work. Therefore, this will not fit what would really happen in our universe. Consider it the AU version of our legal system.

 

Bucky doesn’t get to see Steve. They are taken to the same police station - he knows because he hears the female cops admiring his assets as he walks by, on the other side of the station or the other side of the world, Bucky’s not sure which. So much for Steve’s status as the great American hero keeping him out of jail.

These guards aren’t rough with him at all; rather, they treat him as less than human, like trash that needs to be taken out. Unlike his first experience, they put him in a solitary cell far away from other intakes, “until we figure out what to do with you.”

Whatever it is, Bucky knows it’s not gonna be good.

By the time he’s settled into his cell, Bucky is caught in the surreal twilight between exhaustion and the kind of hunger only a super soldier knows. They bring him dinner, but it’s tasteless gruel and too little besides. He debates explaining to them that he needs more - especially now, after a fight - but knows it’d be as useless as yelling at a cloud. So he goes into hibernation mode, curling in on himself atop the glorified pallet they call a bed and sleeping fitfully.

Normally, he’d see a judge within the first twenty-four hours, be given the opportunity to gain council, and other things Bucky’s a little fuzzy on since he’s not much of a criminal. But he doesn’t get any of those things. This is merely holding for true lifetime imprisonment, after all. There’ll be no fair trial for him.

Several days pass in the holding cell. He watches as people of all shapes and sizes come and go before he hears anything about his fate.

He nearly faints with joy when Steve steps into the holding room with Agent Hill.

“Thank god,” Steve whispers.

Steve nearly rushes toward the cell, but Hill holds him back, muttering under her breath. 

“Not here. Let’s get him into an interrogation room first. Remember, we’re acting as his lawyers, Steve. You’re no longer his dom.”

“Like hell I’m not,” he growls at her, and Bucky can’t help the grin that spreads across his face, making him feel alive for the first time in days. 

“Rogers,” she starts in a pleading voice, but Steve raises his hand in supplication; yes, he’ll behave the way he’s supposed to. For now.

“Alright, Bucky,” Agent Hill says warmly, “we’ve got a private room to discuss your case. If you’ll follow the officer, we’ll take you there.”

Bucky’s not entirely sure what the hell’s going on, but he’s gonna roll with it, because it means he gets to see Steve. They follow the guard down the hall and through another set of double doors, into the bowels of the police station where Bucky can’t keep track of their direction. Finally, they make a right turn into the aforementioned private room, and Steve attacks the instant the officer leaves them.

Strong hands push his shoulders against the wall, leaving him no choice but to go along with whatever it is Steve wants, which is to kiss him nearly senseless. Steve shoves his tongue deep into Bucky’s mouth and tastes him like he’s his last meal on death row. Bucky winces at the metaphor even as he opens wide for his dom.

After a moment, Maria clears her throat; Bucky’s shocked to realize he’d forgotten her entirely, thrown under Steve’s spell as he’d been. He shoots her an apologetic glance, but Steve doesn’t let go of him just yet. He kisses him again, long, slow, and lingering. Agent Hill just sits down at the table and waits it out. 

Everybody knows there’s no use in pushing Steve until Steve’s ready, the contrary jackass, and Bucky adores him for it.

When they’ve had their fill and are half-hard in their pants, Steve pulls back and leads Bucky to the table where people usually meet with their lawyers. Which, he guesses, is sort of what’s going on here. 

Sort of, but not quite. 

Steve grips his hand tight as he motions for Hill to take the floor. Bucky interprets that to mean that their time is limited.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what the hell is going on.”

“Uh… you could say that, sure,” he chuckles, giving Steve a nervous look.

“We’re trying to get you out of here,” Steve says comfortingly.

“Well, yeah, I mean I kinda figured that much.”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“Kinda my M.O., darling,” Bucky replies with a wink.

Agent Hill rolls her eyes. “As soon as you guys are done flirting?”

Steve bites his lip; great, now Bucky’s looking at it. How’s he supposed to pay attention with this man sitting right next to him,  _ biting his damn lip _ ?

By remembering how serious this is, that’s how. Though the fact that they’re even here now tells him things are starting on the right foot, at least.

“Here.” 

Hill tosses him a newspaper, an actual printed newspaper -  _ The New York Times _ from two days ago. He reads over the front page. 

“... pulled from the grip of a secret organization … new hero... only being identified as the ‘Winter Soldier.’”

Bucky glances at Hill. “They’re calling me the ‘Winter Soldier?’”

“... that’s the first thing you ask? Not ‘will this help me’ or ‘what are people saying?’”

“Well, I mean, it kinda paints a target on my back, doesn’t it?”

“Target’s already on your back, Barnes,” Hill tells him in a flat voice, and he wishes that just once she’d give him a genuine smile.

“Alright, I’ll bite, then. How is this going to help me?”

“People are clamoring for them to let you out,” Steve says with a small smile. “They’re flocking to the courthouse in droves; some are lining up outside the Supreme Court. Turns out putting Captain America behind bars, even for a night, is bound to rile some people up. Sam worked with the _ New York Times _ journalists to get that article to introduce you to the public in the best light possible, and then wound a bunch of people up and got them to come to Washington. And here we are.”

“Wait, wait. Sam got a bunch of people wound up? What people?”

Hill answers, “He’s the leader of a special interest group, works with Congress to make sure that people are treated fairly regardless of their status. He also happens to run an underground beta haven, rescuing people from abusive relationships. He works with subs and beta subs alike who are caught in bad situations and gives them new lives.”

“I’m lucky to have met him when I did,” Steve says, and yeah, Bucky can get behind that. 

“So all these protesters, they help people like me?”

“Yeah, sort of. They’ve been looking for a horse to back, to get the laws changed. To end this slavery bullshit, and even let regular submissives live their lives however they want to. End the assessments. A whole bunch of stuff needs to change, but your status first and foremost.”

“I’m their… horse? Really?”

“You’re the best chance we’ve got to change the laws,” Maria says, and Bucky gets a nasty feeling that maybe this had been on the team’s mind the entire time, that maybe they’d known this might’ve happened to him. 

“I don’t want to be some political statement,” he hisses.

“Buck-” 

Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s hand, but Bucky pulls away entirely as though burned by Steve’s touch. He watches his dom flinch. 

Maria is, as always, one hundred percent professional. “Now is not the time to argue about it. What’s done is done. You’re lucky they’re keeping you in here; they wanted to give you to a man on the other side of the world, make sure Steve never saw you again.”

He takes a deep breath; logically, Bucky knows this is the best chance he’s got to be with Steve. Well, to be with him without having to go into hiding for the rest of their lives. He tentatively reaches out again, smiling a little when Steve sighs with relief. 

“So what do we do now?” he asks Hill.

“We start a revolution. It’s not going to happen overnight, but there’s enough anger out there, and we have enough pull to make sure you stay in jail and not out with some abuser that Hydra assigns to you. Our only concern is your safety in here, so we’ve got a guy on the inside who’ll be your cellmate.”

Bucky’s mouth twists at the thought of sharing a cell with somebody - he likes pooping alone, thank you very much. 

“Will I have to have a cellmate? I can’t just stay in solitary?”

“Trust me when I say solitary would be bad for you,” Steve soothes. “You need human interaction. We all do. I suggest you try to make friends. Some people here will be a little afraid of you, given what they know recently happened at the Triskelion; some will be looking to take advantage. Stay close to Ian. He’ll help you navigate the twists and turns of this place.”

Bucky sighs. He doesn’t want to do this - he wants to go home with Steve and stay wrapped in his arms until the end of time, but there are no other options. Obviously, Steve and the other Avengers would bust him out of here if they had to, but that’s plan Z. For now, he’s gotta stay put and watch his back. 

“I don’t want you to go,” he says into Steve’s neck as they prepare to leave.

Steve nods and grips him tightly. Slender fingers slide under the collar that’s still, by some miracle, around his neck. He prays to all the stars that they never take that from him.

“I’m always here with you, baby. Right here.” He puts a little bit of pressure on Bucky’s neck; Bucky stretches his neck out, baring his throat to his dom. “Don’t you forget it, you hear me?” Steve asks him fiercely, breath hot on his face.

“Yes, sir,” Bucky breathes back. 

“Good boy. I’m gonna get you out as soon as I can.”

They say their goodbyes. 

Bucky feels pretty melancholy about the whole thing. Sure, it’s good to know that Steve has ground to stand on, that he’s not going to immediately be thrown into the hands of someone who will abuse him or even dispose of him to get back at Steve. There’s a layer of protection here. 

At the same time, though, nothing’s guaranteed. And who knows how long Bucky will have to wait? Social change takes time. He could lose years of his life in prison before anything happens. He moves through the next few days like he’s walking in Jell-O, slow and soporific, until he’s put into gen pop at the nearby Detention Facility.

And then he meets Ian.

 

***

 

Ian Somers is the burliest man Bucky’s ever seen - he makes Steve look small in comparison. He insists he’s not enhanced in any way, but Bucky’s extremely skeptical of that claim. Not that it matters; Steve trusted him to protect Bucky, and this guy looks like he could do that without working up a sweat.

The workout yard is a nice change of pace from the routine of cell life, which is fucking boring as hell, if anyone’s asking Bucky. But getting exercise makes his enhanced body as well as his mind happy, and he throws himself into it with gusto. 

“So what’s going on with you today?” Ian asks him.

Bucky’s been here about four months now, and has dipped into several depressive episodes. He only gets to see Steve once every couple of weeks, and they’re not granted privacy in those sessions, since Steve isn’t technically his dom any longer. In fact, he’s lucky he gets to see Steve at all. 

Today’s a good day, though, and he’s pushing his body to get the most out of it while it lasts. 

“Can’t complain too much today, you know?” he grunts, pulling himself up to the bar with one hand - the right, since he’s trying to even out the strength in his arms. Not that he’ll ever be able to do that, but he’s gonna give it his best shot.

“Yeah, is that so?” Ian grins.

“I got to see Steve a few days ago, so I’m riding the high a bit.  _ Ungh _ , this bar’s tough to hang on to.”

“I’ll give you both of those, friend. How the hell’d a stacked fucker like you get to be called a slave, eh?”

Bucky still doesn’t know Ian very well, considering they’ve only had surface conversations, but one thing’s for sure: the guy doesn’t pull punches. In conversation or otherwise. They haven’t talked about this just yet, though he’d figured it was coming.

“That’s a damn good question,” Bucky answers as he drops off the bar, making room for Ian to show him up. He doesn’t question Ian’s choice of words - that’s exactly what he is, after all. A slave.

“Then you ended up Captain America’s slave, ‘s a helluva thing right there. Wouldn’t’a thought he’d be into that, considerin’ they’s still fightin’ for rights back then.”

Bucky eyes him, wondering what he’s getting at.

Ian sees his look and shrugs. “Just sayin’. Don’t seem very Captain America to me.”

“You don’t think we’re lyin’ to you about it, do you?” 

“Goodness, no. Why someone’d lie about somethin’ like that, got no idea. You’re a target for a lot of reasons, friend. No one in their right mind would wanna be that.”

“You got that right,” Bucky mutters under his breath.

“‘Winter Soldier,’” Ian scoffs, and Bucky stiffens in defense. But Ian keeps going. “‘S a damn brave thing you did, ya know that? Dressin’ up like that, actin’ the vigilante. You need a mask to go along with it. Be nice ‘n pretty there next to your fancy ass collar.”

Bucky glances down at himself, at the horrific orange jumpsuit that should have been retired ages ago, and finds that he misses the whole Soldier get-up. He misses going out there and fighting for what’s right, even though he’d just gotten a taste. 

He misses  _ Steve _ .

“Yeah, guess it doesn’t really go with this outfit, does it,” he sighs. 

“Nope, sure don’t - hey, what’s ‘at?” 

The commotion that Bucky had forced to the back of his mind moves closer, down the yard in his direction. He turns to see several of the prisoners stepping aside to let a small gang through. Bucky knows these guys, a ragtag group of wannabes, but he’s not stupid enough to get an attitude with them, either, considering there are nine of them. 

And every single one of them is walking toward Bucky with purpose in his step.

“Can I help you boys with anythin’?” Ian asks them. 

“Nah, man, you can fuck off. We’re here for this one.”

Bucky’s back straightens. He was told that under no circumstances would a fight be tolerated, considering his status and his enhanced abilities, but if nine guys jump him - even with Ian’s help - it could be fatal. He’ll fight back, metal arm and all - what choice is there?

Ian drops down to the ground next to him. “‘Fraid I can’t let you do that, friend.”

The gang leader spits out of the side of his mouth. “We don’t want none o’ his kind ‘round here. And you can’t stop me. Whole bunch of us, one of you. What do you think you’re gonna do, exactly?”

Ian drops his head and sighs. “You do realize you’re talking ‘bout a guy what runs with Captain America ‘imself, right? You think he can’t handle ‘is own?”

“Not against nine of us, no, even with you.”

Ian’s weird accent disappears, like it’s an act he puts on to fool everyone, and maybe it is. “Fine. Bucky, make your way back to the base. I’ll handle these idiots.”

“Nah, man. Can’t leave you to this.”

Ian looks at him with a grin. “Think I can’t handle it?”

“Metal arm’ll help either way.”

The grin widens. “Brave motherfucker you are, ain’t you. Let’s get to it, then.”

He spits too, in the same direction as the gang leader had, and apparently that’s a signal because the fight starts in earnest. 

Turns out, Bucky’d forgotten how good it feels to fight, and how good he is at it. His body knows just what to do, like it was born for this the same way it was born to take cock - the gang leader goes straight for him and gets laid out like the little bitch he is in less than two seconds. His second-in-command goes for Ian, who struggles with the fight, bulk getting in the way, but Bucky’s got no such problems and he rams straight into the next three guys that approach him, bowling them over. They fall back into the remaining four gang members, dazed, and he gives them a warning look, telling them in no uncertain terms that this just ain’t gonna happen. 

Two of them run. The three he’d knocked onto their asses stand up, dusting themselves off. Ian finishes off the other - now there are five against two, and he hasn’t even broken a sweat. One guy cracks his knuckles, and Bucky just rolls his eyes. 

“Whole hallway full of trained operatives couldn’t take me down,” - he neglects to mention he’d had Steve Rogers and a shield at the time - “what makes you think you can?”

“‘Cause you’re a little bitch slave boy,” the one who’d been cracking his knuckles says, and then charges.

He fights better, faster than either of his so-called ‘leaders,’ actually forcing Bucky to duck under the first punch, but Bucky flows into the next move, stepping forward instead of retreating and using his flesh arm to elbow the guy in the stomach. He goes down hard. The remaining gangster wannabes are dispatched in half a minute.

Bucky stands over them and brushes off his hands. He gets a kick out of seeing the dust rain down into the open mouth of the unconscious leader.

Fucking idiots.

That’s the end of that - should’ve been the end of that - except that the guards choose that moment to step in. Of course they do. They’ve been waiting for Bucky to fuck up since he got in here. 

One of them roughly grabs him by the shoulder; even though he hadn’t used his left arm at all during the fight, the guards give that side of him a wide berth. Probably a good strategy, considering that they know the rumors about him are true, that he fought side-by-side with Captain America, that he’s enhanced. Which is stupid anyway, Bucky reflects; he just took down six men without even using that left arm. If he’d wanted to kick their asses, he probably would have by now. It doesn’t matter though, because he’s clearly going to cooperate. Or at least, it _ shouldn’t _ matter.

They throw him in solitary anyway. 

Without the arm.

Fuck, he misses  _ Steve. _

 

*******

 

Bucky’s not stuck in solitary for long - he’s not sure they can legally keep him there anyway, although he’s a beta so who the fuck knows what is and is not legal. It sure feels like a million fucking years, though. There’s nothing to do but go back over every questionable decision he’s ever made and wonder if karma had this in store for him the entire time. What had he done to deserve this - any of this? Is he just the most unlucky bastard in the world or what?

_ No, _ he reminds himself.  _ There are people a lot worse off. People Sam and his friends rescue every day. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. _

This still fucking sucks.

An officer comes to get him some indeterminate amount of time later, and he follows gratefully. It gets even better when he’s led to a private suite, the likes of which he hasn’t been lucky enough to see yet. Steve’s waiting for him, looking pissed as hell, though his face softens the instant he sees Bucky.

“Oh, baby,” he whispers, “come here.”

They meet near the door, Steve coming to him in long strides. The bear hug he visits upon Bucky lasts a solid five minutes, like he’s unable to come up for air, and that’s A-OK in Bucky’s book. Steve’s eyes are a little red-rimmed when he pulls back.

Bucky just looks at him in a daze. “How long was I in there?”

“Two days,” Steve sighs. “You were attacked and fought back with the least amount of violence possible, but they still put you in a tiny room with no human contact for forty-eight hours,” he says bitterly. “And removed your arm.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah, I feel a little sick to my stomach.”

Steve looks stricken. “Shit. Come here, come with me and sit.” 

He leads Bucky to a plastic table with a cushy-looking bench against one wall and two chairs against another. Bucky’s pulled close on the bench, practically in Steve’s lap, and Steve holds on to him like he’s never planning to let go.

Also A-OK by Bucky.

He rests his head upon Steve’s shoulder and sighs. “Please tell me this is gonna be over soon. I might need you to break me out of here,” he says, half-joking.

“Yeah, I might need to do that,” Steve says, half-serious.

They look at each other, each gauging the situation.

Steve twists his mouth and tears his gaze away first. “It’s not going badly. We’re making headway, a bit at a time. There’s a special Congressional committee for it now, and your case has been frozen - they’re not gonna put you with someone else until the committee’s made an announcement. It’s just an ethics committee, so they can’t change the law themselves - but they can set things in motion on the Senate floor. With public opinion leaning your way, it looks decent.  And I can see you. Not often enough, but this is already an exception.”

“I know it is.”

“Yeah.” Puppy dog eyes search his face. “God, I wanna make love to you so much. I miss having you in my arms every night. The bed is so cold without you.”

Bucky snuggles in closer, pulling his legs around and over Steve’s lap and wrapping his arms around his neck. “How long do we have before you have to leave?”

Steve gives him a scandalized look. “We can’t do that here. Actually, I don’t know if we could get in trouble or not.”

Bucky swats him. “Steve, you big doof. I wasn’t asking for that.” 

Steve hums in response and kisses Bucky’s forehead. 

“So how long do we have?” Bucky repeats.

“Two hours.”

“Do you have any idea how long this Congressional thing is gonna take?”

“No. They’re guessing two to four months. Five max.”

Fuck, that’d be nine total months in prison if they went the full five, and that’s best case scenario for the outcome.

“How likely do you think it is that I’ll be let out?”

“To my custody? Pretty likely. I don’t know about restoring your other rights, but you saved a lot of people’s lives, and there’s incontrovertible proof of that. Not to mention Nat released all of SHIELD’s files, including her own, to the public. There’s been quite a backlash there; several members of Congress and White House staff members were implicated in Hydra’s little schemes. Some of them are being convicted. Most are swallowing cyanide capsules, unfortunately. But bottom line, they don’t want that to be a bigger circus than it already is, and keeping you locked up or putting you with someone other than Captain America is a bad move, media-wise. So I think you’re gonna be in a good position. It’ll just take time.”

Bucky nods. Not what he was hoping for, but it could be much worse. If there’s a good chance he’ll be coming home in five more months tops… he’ll survive. 

“Just hold me, then?”

Steve’s blue eyes are like the sky on a clear day, soft and full of something ethereal, undefinable. Heavenly, maybe, though if that ain’t a sappy thought, Bucky doesn’t know what is. 

“I will, doll.”

Bucky kisses him then, long and slow and so, so sweet. 

“You taste like home,” he tells Steve when they pull away, out of breath.

“I know,” Steve murmurs against his lips. “So do you.”

 

***

 

Ian’s leaning against the wall in their shared cell when he gets back.

“See you lost your arm, eh?”

“Quiet, buddy,” Bucky kids. 

“Hey, man, was waitin’ for ‘em to do it. But ya didn’t even use it in the fight, didja?”

He shakes his head. “No, but I’m not that surprised, to be honest. They were waiting for an excuse. At my assessment, they took it.”

“No shit?” Ian raises his eyebrows. “Well, that’s shitty, if I say so myself.”

“It was.”

Bucky looks at the dim, filthy floor of his cell. So much for those tax dollars going to better the prisons if they can’t even keep the cells clean. 

“Think they’ll ever treat prisoners like human beings?”

Ian shrugs. “Maybe. I think eventually. Slaves - sorry, betas - though? ‘Nother story entirely.”

He lifts his head. “I think you might be wrong on that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“‘S what Steve keeps tellin’ me, anyway. I’ve gotta believe him or go a little insane, you know?”

Ian gives him a knowing look. “Got that need to serve in ya, huh.”

He sighs. “It’s not that simple.”

“‘Course it ain’t,” his cellmate snorts. “Y’ain’t less than a person with his own hopes and dreams and needs. Any more than anyone was hundreds of years ago when we treated people like you like property, ya know?”

He does. He does know.

“Some days I’m alright. Some days things are just fine. And then others? It’s like I’m crawlin’ out of my skin, I need him so much.”

“He’s everythin’ to you, isn’t he.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“I got an idea, but you ain’t gonna like it.”

“What is it?”

Ian smirks. “Oh, you’ll see, friend. You’ll see.”

 

Bucky finds out two nights later while in the communal showers. Ian sneaks up behind him and puts a cloth over his face. It smells like… chloroform? How the hell did he get ahold of  _ that _ in here? It doesn’t put Bucky down for the count, but it leaves him dazed enough that he can’t fight Ian’s guys, three beefed-up dudes just a bit smaller than Somers himself. 

“I’m gonna get you outta here, kid,” Ian whispers to him, holding him from behind as his buddies start to kick him in the stomach. “Never told ya how, though, but you’ll survive.”

He kisses Bucky’s temple and walks away, leaving him to huddle up on the floor in pain as the prisoners get to work on their mission. And sure, it feels like a betrayal. But it feels like something else, too, like he’s gonna see Steve again soon, one way or another. 

That was the point, after all.


	19. Chapter 19

 

_ “The Winter Soldier has been identified as James Buchanan Barnes, beta to Steve Rogers, Captain America himself.”  _

Great, this is just great. Bucky has no chance of remaining relatively anonymous now that the media has found him. It’s one of the worst things about this century, Steve reflects, how quickly the media moves. It has its upsides, of course, but they’re kind of hard to see when the man you love - the man who belongs to you, and no other - has his name plastered everywhere. 

Still, he tries to look at the bright side. Plenty of people are taking notice of what Bucky’s done. Twitter and Facebook are awash with debates and declarations. 

There are, of course, negative ones. Many conservatives shout about how, as a beta, Bucky shouldn’t even be allowed outside of the house, let alone working a job where people’s lives are at stake. As if Bucky were a thing, incapable of doing anything constructive, let alone heroic. As if he hadn’t helped save all their asses. 

Some of them describe the Avengers and their ‘deeds’ as no more than chaos, citing the thousands dead in the wake of the Battle of New York, and now in Washington, DC.  _ They need oversight _ , some say.  _ They need to be under the government’s control. _ And while Steve winces at the thought of the deaths they’ve inadvertently caused or the lives they’ve failed to save, those particular people make him see red. When Hydra itself hides within the government, the heroes are those who do what’s right with or without the government’s advisement or even permission.

But there are those who back the Avengers, as well as Bucky and Steve’s plight, and they seem to speak louder than the naysayers. Sam’s people, of course, are out in the nation’s Capitol in full force, yelling at Congress to change the laws, to give people more rights, especially betas, but also submissives. An entire movement has started behind Bucky, something that had been growing underground for years while Steve had been trapped in the ice. 

And there are regular Joes out there, too, throwing in their voices. Armchair activists, Tony scoffs, yelling too much and doing too little. Steve still counts them, though. They’re voters, and if they believe strongly enough in something, they’ll champion it with their ballots. Altogether, it’s a huge leap forward for the rights of submissives and betas.

But he growls when he sees the paper, because that’s Bucky’s _ name _ . His privacy. It’s forever gone now, no matter the outcome of this whole mess.

He throws his hands up in frustration, stalking like an angry cat around his hotel room as he waits to hear the latest news from Maria. They’re trying to get Bucky out of prison during the Congressional committee’s hearings, though there’s little hope that they’ll manage it. Steve’s optimistic about the situation in general, so he’s not freaking out about a potential ‘no,’ but he’s still anxious as hell. 

Not for the first time, he wonders what the hell happened to his country while he was frozen.

The phone rings after an indeterminate amount of time, during which Steve’s metaphorical tail should have swished itself to death. He picks it up on the first ring, hoping against hope to hear Maria’s voice saying  _ we’ve got him, he’s coming home _ .

But the truth is much, much worse, and by the end of the short phone call, he feels like he’s going to have an asthma attack for the first time since 1943.

 

***

 

Bucky looks like hell had rained down upon him, bruised black and purple all over his torso and abdomen. Steve knows it takes a lot to injure a serum-enhanced body like that, and this is so much worse than anything Steve’s ever dealt with. He can hardly imagine the kind of pain that Bucky must have felt, must be feeling even now, or at least will be when he wakes up.  _ If _ he wakes up, and that’s not something Steve particularly wants to think about. 

He grabs Bucky’s hand, cold in the frigid hospital room, and that’s not right. Bucky should be warm, given his metabolism; but there’s a pulse there, nice and steady, that grounds him. A little. Enough. 

He breathes deeply, closes his eyes, knowing that Bucky wouldn’t want him to freak out like this, to cry on his behalf. Thing is, it’s his fault that Bucky got hurt again. Had Steve not pushed him into becoming an Avenger, none of this would’ve happened. Not his first near-death experience in the Potomac, not the months in prison, none of it. 

Steve brings Bucky’s hand to his lips and kisses it, murmuring  _ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry _ over and over again like a prayer. It’ll never be enough to assuage his guilt, but it’s a start. What he really needs is Bucky’s forgiveness, but that will have to wait. For now, he just has to stew in it like the absolute idiot that he is.

Well, while he’s acknowledging his own idiocy, he might as well go full hog. He climbs into the bed, wrapping himself around Bucky’s body, lending his own heat to it. The nurses will come in and yell, of course, but they can shove it. This is all he needs right now, just feeling Bucky against him. 

It reminds him of when he quit being an Avenger the first time around. Steve had known it wouldn’t last - that it was, in fact, just a way to get their attention - but he wonders if maybe he’d been right. Shouldn’t Bucky’s safety be more important than all that?

A throat clears from the doorway behind him. 

“I can hear you thinking.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re creepy sometimes, did you know that?”

“Well, I was trained as a spy, so…”

“Nat.”

“Steve.” She says it like she’s been practicing her  _ cranky Steve Rogers _ voice. 

“Why are you here?”

“Came as soon as I heard.” She pushes off from the doorframe and steps into the room, moving to the other side of Bucky’s bed so that Steve can see her. “He gonna be okay?”

Her voice gives away nothing, but he knows she’s not unaffected. Natasha might pretend she doesn’t care, but he’d known from the moment he met her that she does, and deeply so for those she considers family. And Bucky’s family now; more than that, he’s becoming a symbol for something they’re all invested in, one way or another. From battlefield to courtroom, the Avengers will stick together. 

He smiles softly down at his submissive, brushing a stray strand of hair from his temple. His baby’s an Avenger now, too. It makes his heart swell with pride. 

Nat snorts as she watches him. 

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a person as in love with someone as you are with him.”

Steve snuggles Bucky as tightly as he can manage with all the tubes and gadgets attached to him. 

“Yeah, what of it?”

The corners of her mouth quirk upward. “Nothing. It’s sweet. A little too romantic for my tastes, but that shouldn’t surprise you.”

He gives her a knowing look, but he doesn’t push it; this conversation is not meant to be about her. 

“Didn’t you pin me for a sweet guy?”

“Oh, I most certainly did. It’s just that when you turned down all those dates I tried to set you up on, I wondered if maybe they’d gotten your designation wrong from the start.”

“What, and just lied about it?”

“Sounds like something the government would do, doesn’t it? ‘Captain America, super dom!’ sounds like good propaganda to me. Or useful propaganda, at least.”

He nods his head, wearing a rueful smile. “It would’ve been. I’m surprised they didn’t think of that, actually. But it’s just the truth - you don’t think Pegs would have let them call her a submissive if she wasn’t, do you?”

“Was she really a sub, then?” Natasha seems genuinely curious.

“Very much so, but only in the bedroom. Outside of it, if you tried to tell her what to do… whew. You’d better watch out. She was somethin’ else.”

Natasha’s eyes are gentle. “She sounds like it, Steve.”

He looks at Bucky again, feeling his own features soften. “I have something new now, and I don’t plan to let this one go.”

“I’m glad.” 

He knows she means it.

“Thank you, Nat. For… for being here. For everything.”

She reaches out and cups his cheek, manicured fingernails rough against his five o’clock shadow. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you alone, but make sure you let me know if anything changes.”

He nods and tightens his grip on Bucky. 

_ Never letting you go. Never. _

 

***

 

Bucky doesn’t wake up for three days.

Steve spends the first two mother-henning him, until Sam finally manages to pull him away from Bucky’s bedside for a little while. It’s like pulling teeth, really, but no one expects anything less from Steve, even if they grumble about it in private. 

Everyone except Maria has left by day three - they don’t even bother trying to get Steve to come with them, even though there are super-intelligent wolves currently attacking Los Angeles. Not even another alien attack could pull him from Bucky’s side now. But with everyone gone and Maria’s time being spent rebuilding SHIELD, Steve’s effectively all alone and losing heart.

He spends a while reading next to Bucky’s sleeping form, trying to catch up on some of the literature he’s missed - he’s made it through the eighties and is now attempting to get through  _ American Psycho _ without throwing it against the wall - when his mind starts to wander. He glances at the door, which is thankfully closed, before he starts to talk to Bucky. Maybe Bucky’ll be able to hear him, even while unconscious. The silence is deafening him.

“You know, my mom always thought I’d be a sub,” he starts, not sure where he’s going with this, but feeling an inexplicable urge to talk. “Guess it was because of my size. It’s so weird that people make that assumption, isn’t it? Because you look a certain way, you’re supposed to be a certain way? Doesn’t make sense, but I guess even Mama bought it. I tested well after she died, so she never got to see me as a dom. I think she’d have been proud.”

He looks down at his hands, those long, slender digits that were never made to pick up a shield. It was only by virtue of his stubbornness that they ever did. 

“I hate that those attitudes are still around. Maybe even worse than before in some ways. That it’s okay, that we cover up how abusive it is to people when we ‘assess’ them, saying how it’s making sure they can cope with what the state’s assigned to them. Like the state even has a right to assign a certain lifestyle to people. I mean, I’d like to say we were better when I was growing up - submissives had earned the right to vote, to work, to own property, and we were pretty progressive for the time. Now, all that stuff’s still around and more accepted, but then we have second assessments, and betas… slaves, essentially, or an approximation, and I just don’t know how to fix it.”

Steve brushes Bucky’s hair back, his now-favorite nervous habit, before smirking down at his knuckles, remembering the bruises and scabs he’d favored so often as a kid. 

“I never did like problems I couldn’t punch.”

“I’ve noticed,” comes a strangled voice next to him, and  _ boy howdy _ does Steve Rogers nearly jump out of his skin with how unexpected it is.

“Bucky? Bucky!” he cries, sliding down the bed’s incline to cuddle up close to his submissive, nearly ripping the IV out of his arm in his haste to get nearer, to see, to make sure he’s really okay. “Bucky, are you alright?”

Bucky smiles at him tiredly and holds out his opposite hand in a  _ stop _ gesture. “Steve, it’s fine. I’m fine. Just relax for a minute, yeah?”

Steve tuts and sits up again, cupping Bucky’s face in his hands. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought you weren’t gonna wake up. I will not apologize for being overprotective or for being ecstatic that you’re awake. You’re  _ awake _ !” 

Steve kisses Bucky breathless, then pulls their foreheads together. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I have, too. More than I could say.”

“You don’t have to say. I’m with you.”

“To the end of the line?”

“And beyond, Buck.”

“Then chill out and lie back. I’m tired and I just want my dom here  _ relaxing _ with me.”

He chuckles. “Okay, okay. But you can’t blame me.”

Bucky gives Steve a tired smile before resting his head on his shoulder. “No, I would be the same way if it were you. And I have nowhere near the ‘protective mother lioness’ thing you’ve got going on.”

Steve’s jaw drops, but before he can say anything, Bucky nudges him. “It’s true.”

“It’s not… untrue… I guess.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too. Go back to sleep. I’m sure the nurses will be here to check on you any minute, and then you’ll never get any rest after that.”

 

The nurses don’t come to bother Bucky for a while, which seems strange to Steve, but he’s not complaining. When he wakes up, they end up talking for hours. In a strange way, it’s like the first date they never had. They talk about Steve’s ma - Bucky had wanted to know more, what she was like ( _ sweet as pie _ ), how she had managed to raise such a magnificent, honest,  _ decent _ son ( _ shut up, Bucky, you’re makin’ me blush). _ Bucky has a million and one questions about the Howling Commandos, Morita and Dum-Dum and Dernier and the whole gang, like he’s fascinated by such a tight-knit group of men in wartime. He even wants to know about Phillips, that old jackass, and how Steve had managed to wrangle the 107th free from Hydra’s clutches without the okay from his superiors. 

And Peggy. 

Bucky’s never asked about her before. Most people don’t. Steve’s made it clear in his public appearances that she’s off-topic, seeing as he’d lost her only a few years ago, at least in his timeline. But Nat asked, and now Bucky’s asking, and he figures it’s okay to share the burden of that loss a little bit.

“Pegs… Peggy was a special girl… woman. One of the strongest people, male or female, I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. Everybody saw it. People were shocked that she was a submissive, which is stupid when you think about it. I mean, she’s the perfect example of why that designation is just as deserving as dom, of why people of all types make the world go ‘round, you know? And here I come to find out that things haven’t changed that much. Not really. We’re on the slippery slope to true slavery with this beta submissive business, and it’s not the world she and I fought for.”

Steve looks at his lap, despondent. Bucky takes his hand and squeezes it tight. 

“I know, but we’re fighting now, aren’t we?”

“On purpose? No.”

“Steve, aren’t you the one that told me sometimes we have to be a little brave? We knew this was going to happen, some of it, anyway. You’re a hero. This is what you do.”

“I suppose you’re right, it’s just an unusual kind of heroism for me, I guess.”

“Any of it’s unusual for me, so at least we’re in it together. So what’s the deal anyway? Am I going back to that hellhole or not? And what’s Joe Q. Public saying about it anyway?”

“A lot,” Steve acknowledges. “We’re waiting to see whether or not you can come home with us, with me, while Congress is going over… whatever it is Congress goes over. Data, I guess.”

Bucky chuckles, and Steve swats at him playfully. “They’re hearings, Steve.”

He waves his hands. “Whatever they are. They’re working as hard as they can, I promise.”

“Still think we’re gonna win?”

“We’ve got a lot of support from the public. A lot. Even Sam’s surprised, and he keeps up with this kind of thing pretty closely, as I’m sure you can imagine.”

Bucky stretches his legs. “My family been by to see me?”

Steve shakes his head no. “Sorry, Buck.”

“Didn’t expect anything less.” He tries to shrug nonchalantly, but it doesn’t fool Steve. 

“Well, it’s their loss.”

“I know.”

“You’d better.” 

“I belong to you anyway. You’re what matters.”

“I can’t be all that matters.”

“Nat. Tony. Sam. Hell, even Maria. You all matter.”

Steve smiles into Bucky’s hair. “All those people out there that are lobbying and joining discussion groups and ‘town halls’ and even rioting in a few places… they matter, too.”

“There’s riots?”

“When they found out you were in the hospital, yeah. That you’d been abused in prison. There’s more than that, too. The two men involved in our farce of an assessment were found dead, and Hydra’s been implicated beyond even where we expected. Perfect opportunity for all of this, it seems.”

Bucky gulps, nervous. “Hell of a thing, all of it. Wish it hadn’t had to come to this to get here, though.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Eh. You know it was Ian who did it.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured, though he wouldn’t admit it. Seemed like he felt pretty sorry about the whole deal.”

“I think he did, Steve. But it was brilliant, I’ll give him that.”

“I agree, but I’m still pissed off at him for it. He could’ve killed you.”

“Better to die than rot in prison or be stuck with someone abusive,” Bucky says bitterly.

Yeah, Steve gets that. Still… 

“You hadn’t been sentenced, and besides that, I’d have gotten you out of anything they put you into. You know that.” 

“You’d have tried, at least.”

Steve  _ tsks _ . “Bucky Barnes, my own submissive. If he doesn’t have any faith in my abilities...“

He can practically hear Bucky roll his eyes. “Rogers, I swear to all that is good and pure.”

“What? That you’ll withhold sex? That worked well last time.”

Bucky groans and it turns into a yawn. “Look, I’m a growing boy here. You gonna let me get some actual sleep?”

“Yeah. Gonna get some coffee and check the news. I’ll be around, though. Not goin’ anywhere, I promise.”

“Wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re a lioness, Steve. Already told ya.”

Steve reaches over to ruffle his hair, proving Bucky’s point. “I’ll be back. Sleep.”

“Aye, sir.”

Twenty-two hours later, Bucky is fully healed, though the doctors don’t want to let him go yet. Bucky doesn’t want to go yet, either - they aren’t putting him in gen pop again, not with public opinion swaying the way it is, but he’s still going to a holding cell until the judge can look at his case in a few days. The hospital is infinitely preferable to that. 

It’s awful, knowing that Bucky has to go back to the jail, but the way Stark’s lawyers have been talking, it won’t be for long. Steve crosses his fingers that that’ll be the case.

And when they do leave the hospital, he expects the usual media circus, but this time it’s different. Instead of reporters, there’s a crowd of at least one hundred average Joes waiting on the steps. The cheer that erupts when they walk out of the hospital’s front door is deafening. 

Tears spring unbidden to Steve’s eyes. All of this support, just for them, is overwhelming. He salutes the crowd and waves, arm wrapped tightly around Bucky, and if he’d thought they were loud before, well. 

The ride back to the prison is quiet, but not in an uncomfortable or even melancholy way; rather, it’s contemplative, because both Steve and Bucky know that they’ve started something big here. And Steve’s been a champion of the common man his entire life, much to his mother’s chagrin sometimes, when he’d come home bloodied up, but this is new. This is social change, something he’d never thought he’d have a hand in. 

Maybe he _ can _ be more than just his fists. 

 

_ “Pictured above: the Winter Soldier, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and his dom, Steven Rogers, embracing after Barnes was remanded to Rogers’ custody earlier this morning. The decision comes just days after Mr. Barnes was beaten unconscious in prison while awaiting a Congressional recommendation on beta rights.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of your comments and kudos have meant the world to me!! This fic will be finished by the end of the week, but I am considering doing a sequel to it. I like this couple so much, and I kind of want to write about the day-to-day service Bucky does for Steve. Idk, what do you guys think?


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now including art from the lovely Cobaltmoony! 
> 
> It's NSFW and UTTERLY FABULOUS!
>
>>  
>> 
>> [](//imgur.com/XvbQ9Ti)  
> 

It’s good to be back at the compound. He’s missed not only his friends, not only Steve, but this entire complex as well. There’s a sense of peace here that he’s never experienced anywhere else. The birds chirp even in the crisp autumn air, a sound that chases the creatures of the forest while the trees rustle in the light breeze. Bucky just wants to lie down in the grass and take it all in.

Unfortunately, his balls are not on board with the idea, considering that they’re hugging tight to his body and begging him to go inside already. He snorts, imagining angry little testicles copping an attitude with him. Steve looks over at him, foggy breath visible on every exhale.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, you know, nothing. Sun shining, birds chirping. That sort of thing.” He flashes white teeth at his dom, who returns the grin.

“If you say so. I get the feeling you’re planning something.”

“Hey, I’m not the devious little shit here.”

Steve scoffs, mock-offended. “I’ll have you know I was a perfect little angel growing up.”

Stark, who is walking behind them on their way back from the landing pad, appears skeptical. “You were a self-righteous deviant, from what I’ve heard.”

Steve huffs a sound of indignation, but before he can say anything, Bucky grabs his arm and pulls him in for a hug.

“I’m so glad to be home,” he murmurs.

“Glad you’re home, too. And I’m not letting you go this time. Never.”

“Ugh,” Stark complains, “I’m going to get a cavity. Will you move your asses? It’s cold out here.”

“You could always go around, Stark,” Steve says, and yeah, that’s true, but why would Tony Stark ever pass up a chance to complain?

“I could, but I kinda wanna talk to your boy-toy, Steve.”

Steve eyes him suspiciously. “About?”

“Oh, just things. Sub things.” He clears his throat, a sound of dismissal.

“Oh. Okay.” Steve looks at Bucky with raised eyebrows, silently asking _is this a thing_?

Bucky just laughs. “It’s alright, Steve, go in and make me some dinner. I’m starving.”

“And here I thought you were the submissive.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” He winks at Steve’s ass as he turns toward the building.

“Note to self: schedule dentist appointment for Tuesday.”

“Yeah, yeah. You wanna tell me what this is about?”

“Sure. Let’s go to my little slice of heaven over here first.”

Said slice of heaven is a sunken porch containing a steaming hot tub, tucked into a far corner of the compound out of sight. Bucky did not know this was here; how did he not know this was here?

“Stark! You been keepin’ secrets from everybody?”

“What? It was right here the whole time.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You know how big this place is? Damn, invite us around for a beer every now and then. I mean, we’re only your teammates.”

“Look, Robocop, it’s a private thing. Me and Pepper… the things we’ve done in this tub… you know, plus I’m not sure if your arm’ll hold up in it…”

“I take showers just fine. Not to mention it’s chlorinated. That stuff dies quick, you know?”

Stark puts his head in his hands and pretends to weep. “Well, looks like my secret’s out.”

“Uh, yeah, it is, and if you don’t invite us back here to hang out with you on a regular basis, I might have to go full super-soldier on your ass. I can do that now, you know.”

“Yes, I’m fully aware,” Tony responds drily.

“So am I invited in or what?”

“What’s’a matter, can’t keep warm?”

“... you were the one complaining about the cold.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah, fuck it, let’s get in. Pepper can yell at me about not cleaning up later.”

Bucky glances around and sees that sure, there’s a lot of beer bottles and little Stark gadgets scattered around, but that doesn’t matter to him. He has eyes for the hot tub only.

Stark unceremoniously removes his clothing, seemingly unworried about his teammate’s eyes on him as he sinks into the tub. Bucky follows quickly, shivering like a chihuahua out in the cold.

“Thought you super-soldiers were supposed to run warm?” Stark asks when they’re both settled. Bucky had kind of hoped for a few minutes of relaxed quiet, but with Tony, that seems impossible; the man never stops. Maybe he’ll have to sneak back here with Steve sometime…

“We do, but I’m not a furnace, Stark,” he says, amused.

“Yeah, I guess. Still, I’m a mere mortal over here.”

“You didn’t bring me out here to whine about your inferiority complex, did you?”

“Hey,” Stark objects, raising a finger pedantically, “I resent that. Also, no. I want to ask you a serious question.”

“Shoot.”

“I don’t know what the actual likelihood is of our winning this court battle, or how far it’ll go, but… I get the feeling that even if the laws are changed, you’d still let them designate you as his slave - I mean ‘beta.’”

Bucky thinks about it for a moment, staring at the lush greenery surrounding them as he soaks. It’s true; he doesn’t like being told what to do by random people, but if it’s his choice? For the right person, he’ll give up the right to choose his own path. And Steve is nothing if not the right person.

He sighs, knowing that this will be difficult to explain. “Yeah, I would. Assuming _I_ got to do that, got to decide my own fate. I trust Steve to make decisions for me; I think he’s good for me in that way. I take it you don’t feel the same?”

Stark winces. “I love Pepper, and she is the most fantastic dom I’ve ever known, but if I had the option? No. I’d be free of the entire yoke. That’s not to say that I’d stop submitting to Pepper, or taking her direction in several areas of my life. But it’d be different, you know?”

“I suppose, yeah.”

“So you’re really gonna keep being his beta? Even if you’ve got a right to choose? I mean, I’m not sayin’ don’t be his submissive in the bedroom, or even out of it. You just… you can legally be your own person and still do that. Why don’t you? I’m just curious, no disrespect intended.”

“Relax, Stark. I’m not gonna get mad at you.”

Tony visibly relaxes, and Bucky just shakes his head. Tony and his anxiety.

“It’s just like, well, when you have this… I don’t know how to explain it. It’s a drive, a need. The reason I tested as a beta. I _need_ it, Stark, I really do. But the reason that I’d legally still be his is because… I want the world to know who I belong to.”

“But they already did that to you. I guess I just don’t see why you still want that.”

“Because it’s my choice. It’d be my choice, if we can make it happen. That makes all the difference in the world.”

Tony pats his shoulder, then zones out for a while, pensive. He’d change his own status the instant it was made legal to do so. Bucky gets it, he really does, but it’s just not the same for him. It was never about the status being public, or even that he served Steve in such a profound way. Hell, he _wants_ to serve Steve that way, in every area of their shared life.

It was the _choice_. And now, if he gets that, well. Why would he choose not to keep the best thing that’d ever happened to him?

“Oh, hey,” Tony says, coming back from wherever he’d gone off to and now suppressing a grin. “I just wanted to let you know, I’ve got something in the works.”

“Uh, okay? What the hell are you talkin’ about, Stark?”

“You’ll see. Go. Be with Steve. He misses you, let me tell you, like a motherfucker. I’m callin’ Pepper even if you stay, so just fair warning.”

Bucky leers at him before he gets out of the hot tub. He grabs a towel from the obscenely high stack of them at the lip of the porch, and goes to find his dom.

 

*******

 

When Bucky enters the suite, Steve wordlessly hands him a BLT. He raises his eyebrows, but Steve just gestures to the dining room chairs, pointing to indicate that Bucky should use one, something that he hasn’t been permitted for quite some time. He pouts, telling Steve without words that he’d rather be serving him, but Steve clearly has other plans.

“Sit. Eat.”

“I know I’m your little bitch, Rogers, but damn. Anyway, why can’t I sit at your feet like we always do?”

“Because you’re back home and deserve a quiet meal in peace.”

“I can’t be at peace at your feet?” Actually, he’s _more_ at peace at Steve’s feet, and his dom should know that.

“Just relax for a little bit. You don’t have to serve me for a while. Get back into the routine of being home.”

Bucky scoots off of his chair, bringing his rather delicious BLT with him. He kneels in front of Steve.

“This _is_ the routine of being home.”

Steve frowns at him but doesn’t reply, allowing him to eat on the floor where he feels more comfortable. Bucky closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of finally being able to do this once more.

When the meal is over, he licks his fingers and looks at Steve suggestively, but Steve just pulls him to his feet and leads him to the couch. He has his ‘lecture face’ on. Has Bucky done something wrong already?

“I just want to be here with you and hang out for a while. I know how much you want to serve. I get it. But just relax for a bit. For me. I want you to feel like a free man.”

Oh. Oh _no_.

“Steve, this better not be about guilt for taking advantage of me.”

Steve looks away - bingo.

“It’s unfair to you that you’ve had to go through this.”

“This is my choice.”

“No, it’s not-”

“Do you get to say that?” Bucky’s voice is rising quickly, because _this agitating motherfucker and his sense of honor._ “Do you get to decide what was and was not my own decision?”

“I’m the one who got you into this position. It’s all on me.”

Bucky throws his hands up in frustration. “Are you kidding? You don’t get to do this now, Steve. I came home, came back to you, where I’m supposed to be. And I’m also supposed to be at your feet. You can’t deny that. Don’t you dare try to.”

“Look, try to understand where I’m coming from-”

“I do understand! Why are you such a dolt sometimes? Just let us be us, what we are together. It doesn’t matter whether other people agree with us or not, or if the government does. _We_ get to decide this.”

He takes Steve’s hand and strokes the knuckles, forcing his voice to soften.

“I hate it when you blame yourself. You take on so much of the world, and it’s not healthy for you. Don’t take on my burdens too, okay? As long as I’m here and allowed to be myself with you, everything will work out. This is what I want.”

Steve looks at him with his heart in his eyes. “You sure about that?”

“More than I’ve ever been about anything.” And it’s true.

“Alright. You’re right. But hey, at least I didn’t run in the other direction this time.”

“Contrary to popular belief, old dogs can learn new tricks!”

“... you’re earning yourself a punishment not half an hour after getting through the door.”

“Fine by me.”

Steve swats him playfully. “I still want you to relax for a little bit with me, okay? Just lay back, watch some television. C’mon.”

They lie down on the couch, Bucky wrapped in Steve’s arms, back against his chest and hips surrounded by Steve’s thighs. Steve slips an arm underneath his neck and pulls him tight.

They turn on a nature program - something with David Attenborough, which is all Steve cares about - but, of course, before long their relaxation turns into a makeout session. Of _course_ it does. Bucky bares his neck as Steve kisses his jaw, licks him, marks him with sharp teeth and sweet, soft lips. The marks won’t take long to disappear, but that’s okay, because he can just make new ones. Steve noses at the collar and inhales, getting a whiff of his submissive’s scent and sighing contentedly.

“Mmm,” Bucky sighs himself as Steve continues his ministrations, gently stroking down his torso and down to his stomach, “What are you gonna do to me today?”

Steve nips his earlobe. “Make love to you.”

“You’re gonna be sweet to me, huh?”

“Well. The first time around, anyway.”

Bucky snickers at that and tries to spread his legs to give Steve more access. Steve flexes his thighs to keep him still.

“You’re gonna tease me, though.”

“Of course I am. I live to do that.”

Bucky goes with it, letting himself ever-so-slowly drop down into subspace. Steve touches him everywhere, gently, covetously, like a man dying of thirst would cherish a cup of water. Like he never wants to let go.

“Tell you what,” Steve murmurs into his ear, and Bucky gets goosebumps. “I’ll spoil you tonight. You get to come as many times as you want. From my hand, my mouth, my cock, anything you want, baby. I’m gonna treat you like a jewel, because that’s what you are.”

Bucky blushes - Jesus, Steve is a hopeless romantic and corny as hell besides, but it still gets to him. It still makes his cock leak between his legs and his hips rock back and forth, or as much as they can with Steve holding him in place like he is. His skin tingles, and the sensation zips up and down his spine as Steve’s lips and hands slowly dismantle him.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been going for, but finally, _finally_ , Steve gets down to business and reaches into Bucky’s pants to take him in hand. His fingers are soft, any calluses he might’ve had from using the shield completely smoothed over by the effects of the serum. _Fuck,_ Bucky’s not going to last long like this. But Steve’s given him permission, so he lets it build as quickly as it wants to.

Still, he asks permission. He’s not a heathen, for goodness’ sake.

“Yes, you may come,” Steve whispers into his skin, and suddenly the tide is washing up, up, and out, rinsing him clean from the horrors of the last few months.

He lies boneless, breathless in Steve’s arms as he comes down from the high. He can feel the tension bleeding from his muscles, tension Bucky hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying. Steve gives him sweet little kisses up and down his jaw and cheeks and neck, showering him with affection in a way uniquely his. Eventually, it starts to tickle.

“Hey, hey, okay. I get it, you’re happy I’m home. You’re like an overexcited puppy.”

In retaliation, Steve licks his face.

Bucky splutters and tries to get away, but Steve’s body covers him like a piece of bacon-wrapped shrimp and he’s clearly not going anywhere. He groans and Steve laughs, a beautiful sound if there ever was one.

“That’s what you get.”

“And what else do I get?”

“Hmm,” Steve says, pursing his lips. “I could maybe think of something.”

He starts stroking Bucky’s dick again, even though Bucky’s still oversensitive and it makes him twitch.

Bucky hisses. “Fuck, Steve.”

Steve pulls back to look him in the face, bearing the most innocent expression he can muster, the little shit. “What’d I do?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, I mean, it’s only fair. I told you you can come as much as you want. You had to know there was a catch or two.”

“If the world only knew how evil Captain America really is…”

“They’d love it.”

He smooches Bucky on the cheek, a loud, wet smack. Bucky rolls his eyes, at least until Steve’s hand is back on his dick. Then he squirms some more, much to Steve’s obvious amusement.

“I don’t know why you’re complaining. You’re still hard. It never even went away.”

“I’m a super soldier, remember?”

“Oh, I remember. Maybe I’ll make you come until you can’t get hard again tonight…”

“Steve!”

“Told you, I’m treating you like you deserve.” He kisses Bucky on the mouth, this time a sweet, chaste kiss. “I’m gonna make it good for you, Buck,” he murmurs against his lips.

“You always do,” Bucky whispers back.

Steve mercifully stops stroking Bucky, who is annoyingly disappointed by the loss of contact. Steve just kisses his temple before getting up and walking to the bedroom, jeans snug and tented in the front. Bucky whines.

“Don’t worry, baby. Not going far.”

Steve comes back with a tube of lube, and Bucky thinks maybe they should’ve foreseen something like this and hid the thing _in here_. He lifts his hips to assist Steve with removing his pants and sticky boxers.

Once Bucky’s cock springs free, he reaches for Steve in an effort to get Steve to remove his own clothing, but Steve just grabs Bucky’s hands and moves them above his head, pushing them into the couch.

“No touching. It’s about you tonight.”

He whines again - no fair!

“If I can’t touch you, then it won’t be as fun! If it’s about me…”

Steve whistles. “Trying to manipulate me into doing what you want, huh? I don’t think so. Leave your hands there.”

His voice has gone all commanding and Bucky feels himself leaking, precome beading at the tip of his cock. He listens like a good submissive, because he’s not a _heathen_.

Steve preps him nice and slow. He starts with one finger, barely pushing in to the knuckle for what feels like hours, until Bucky is writhing, trying to get more stimulation. He begs and pleads, but his dom holds fast, working Bucky into a frenzy with a gentle hand.

“God, fuck, Steve, come on, I need it, need you… please…” he groans, tossing his head back and forth like Steve is torturing him. And he is, in the best way possible.

“Hey, you seemed a little iffy about the idea of coming again so soon, so I figured I’d give you a break.”

“Oh - oh, _Jesus_ \- you are a little shit, Steve, you know that?”

Steve settles between his legs as though he’s in it for the long haul, and he probably is, much to Bucky’s chagrin.

“Yep,” he chirps.

Sweat is dripping from Bucky’s body and he’s struggling to keep his hands above his head by the time Steve breaches him with a second finger. When Steve finally pushes his fingers all the way in and grazes Bucky’s prostate, it makes him arch up beautifully off the couch.

“That’s it,” Steve murmurs, “that’s my baby. So perfect, so wonderful. I can’t get enough of you, you know that? I can’t take how much I love you, _fuck_ , I love you so much, Bucky…”

He continues in a low tone, like a lullaby, and Bucky starts floating off, dropping into subspace again. His skin buzzes and he closes his eyes, mind focusing on nothing more than Steve’s fingers inside him, Steve’s sweet voice whispering all those sweet things. The entire world falls by the wayside with the slow cadence of his words.

He’s vaguely aware of Steve repositioning him, bending him over the back of the couch and mounting him from behind, but he can’t focus on anything but Steve’s weight on his back, until Steve gently pulls his head back and snaps his fingers in front of Bucky’s face.

“Buck? You in there?” he asks softly.

“Mm. ‘m here.”

“Open your eyes. Look at me.”

Bucky obeys, of course he does, looking Steve in the eye even as his whole body flushes with pleasure. It always turns him on so much to be forced to do that, makes his cock jump with anticipation, because it’s his natural instinct to look down in deference. Now Bucky can’t pretend to be lost in anything but Steve himself, forced to acknowledge who is in charge, who owns him.

A long, low groan escapes him at the thought, one that keeps going until he runs out of breath when Steve slowly pushes into him from behind. He keeps his back arched and eyes wide as his dom buries himself until his hips lie flush against Bucky’s own.

“Ohhh,” Steve breathes in awe. “I forgot, Buck. Forgot what you felt like…”

Bucky understands the feeling - it doesn’t take more than a minute of staring lovingly into Steve’s eyes as he’s taken before he lets go, getting semen all over himself and the couch, mouth agape. He never looks away from Steve, his pleasure paying homage to all that they are together, tears shining in his eyes. Steve smiles tenderly down at Bucky through all of it, accepting it like a benediction.

 

The room spins on its axis as his dom picks him up and carries him to the bedroom, depositing him gently on the bed.

Steve moves to get a wash rag to clean Bucky up, but Bucky’s having none of it. He reaches out and tightens his metal hand around Steve’s wrist to stop him.

“Please,” he whispers. He feels the tears pooling at the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. Shh…”

Steve holds Bucky as he cries, rocking him back and forth. He finds it odd that this drop occurs most often when Steve is kind to him; the rougher their sex, the less likely he is to fall into this, but that’s okay, because no matter what happens to him, Steve is there to catch him.

“I feel so silly for crying,” he says into Steve’s chest when he’s got a little bit of breath back.

“Why? You’ve been through a lot. It’s perfectly normal to cry, Buck. Don’t be ashamed of it.”

“It’s not that I’m ashamed of it,” he says as he sits up. “It’s more like… I’m just… I don’t know, unpredictable? I cry at the oddest moments sometimes.”

Steve smiles and situates Bucky against his chest, pulling his thigh over his own. “There’s no wrong time to cry. But I will say, one of these days, you’re gonna need a hell of a therapist. There’s just so much riding on you, and it’s not fair. I wish I could protect you from all of it.”

Bucky giggles despite himself. “Uh huh. I was already seeing one anyway.”

Steve appears surprised at the news. “You were? Why?”

“Well… honestly? Because I never came to terms with how I felt about enjoying submission. It was… frowned upon in my family. I’d be freaking out even more if I hadn’t cut them off. That was isolating, but now I’m thankful I did it.”

Steve’s face gets all sad puppy. “I’m sorry things were like that for you.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to feel sorry for. You ever gonna actually believe me when I say that?”

“Probably not?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Figures.”

It’s been a long day, and it doesn’t take long for Bucky to start drifting off to sleep. Steve grips him tightly, holding onto him like a lifeline. Just before Bucky finally loses consciousness, he feels Steve’s warm lips against his temple, his warm breath in his ear.

“Welcome home, Bucky.”

 

***

 

When Bucky wakes up for breakfast - breakfast that Steve had decided to make without any input from his submissive, damn him - Tony is inexplicably hanging out in their kitchen, leaning against the counter, arms flailing like a kid playing helicopter as he explains something to Steve. Bucky frowns at the display, but Steve and Tony both perk up when they see him.

“Hey, kid! Glad you’re awake.”

“...Kid? Also, what time is it?”

“Past time for you to get up, sleepyhead,” Steve says with a gentle smile. “Tony was just explaining some engineering things to me that went way over my head. You might get it, though.”

Bucky sits at the table, clad in pajama bottoms and nothing else, and raises his eyebrow at Steve. “You are likely way overestimating my ability to understand engineering.”

Tony scoffs. “This is easy. I’m talking _easy_ , like ‘I’d teach this to a bunch of undergrads’ kind of stuff. Besides that, it has to do with you.”

Bucky accepts the orange juice Steve offers him. “Is this what you were talking about yesterday? Some idea you had?”

“Yep. Exactly.”

“Alright. So spill.”

“Thought you’d never ask. Steve here was telling me about your assessment, how they made you remove the arm because it was ‘a weapon’ inappropriate for a slave. Sorry, I mean ‘beta.’”

“ _They_ removed it,” he explains, grimacing at the memory.

“You, they, whatever - point remains. Inappropriate for your station. And they did the same thing to you in prison. So I was thinking… well, if they’re going to think it’s a weapon anyway… let’s make it a weapon. Let’s make _you_ a weapon.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “What, uh, why do I need to be a weapon? Why is that necessary? _Is_ it necessary?”

“You’re an Avenger now, Buck,” Steve explains, handing Bucky a bowl of cereal and taking a bite of his own. “I want you to be able to defend yourself.”

_Against anyone that comes after you, legally or otherwise_ is left unsaid.

He swallows nervously. “I doubt the government is going to just let me do that, Steve. Even if they let me stay with you… You said before, this kind of change takes time. I doubt betas will be legal to work anytime soon.”

Steve meets his eyes, unflinching. “Yep. And this is how change happens. You’d be a martyr to the cause if something happened to you. As long as you’re in my custody, you’ll be a thorn in their side. The people already love you. Can’t get rid of you, can’t attack me for letting you break the law since the Avengers are technically outside of their jurisdiction. It’s a perfect social statement. That’s assuming you still want to be an Avenger. You don’t have to.”

Tony and Steve stare at him expectantly, as if he could answer this question right here and now without considering his options. After his arrest, Bucky hadn’t expected to have a choice in the matter again, so he honestly hadn’t thought about it. They both stare at him like the answer should be obvious.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “I need to think about it.”

Stark makes to interrupt, but Bucky cuts him off.

“No. I need to think about it. I want to do it - I loved it, knowing I’d made such a huge difference, saving all those people, using what those Hydra assholes gave me for something better. But I’m already way out in the public eye, and asking me to do something like this is a lot of pressure, you know? I want to serve the public, but I want to serve you more, Steve.”

He looks pleadingly at Steve, silently begging him to understand.

“This is what I think is best for you, Bucky. It gives you that sense of purpose that you need, it works towards your goals, and there’s nothing in it that says it would stop you from serving me. I’m an Avenger, and I’ve gotta be out there sometimes. This would make sure you’re by my side through it all, and I want that.”

Steve sets his bowl in the sink and rinses it out, then sits on the floor next to Bucky in some gross parody of their usual setup.

“But I’m here for whatever you need, babe. I’m not forcing you into this, or anything else you don’t want to do.”

Bucky thinks back on his most recent conversation with Stark. How he’d said that he didn’t mind not having the choice, as long as he was the one to choose to give it up. If Steve thinks this is the best thing for him, he owes it to him to at the very least seriously consider it. Because he trusts Steve to know what’s best for him. That trust is certainly not in question.

“Give me a day?”

“Sure, Buck,” Steve says, grabbing his hand and kissing it. “Anything you need.”

“Oh my god, the two of you are sickening.”

Steve fixes Tony with an unimpressed look. “You’re the one who agreed to watch us together, Stark, so I don’t believe your grumbling.”

Tony splutters. “That wasn’t my choice! I mean, it was, but not by _choice_. I had to, to help you out. I wouldn’t have left you in the cold like that, I swear.”

“Yeah, but you sure seemed to enjoy it,” Bucky points out.

“That’s… not the point. Anyhoo, I’m gettin’ out of here, leaving you two lovebirds to do… whatever it is you’re going to do. Not my business. Adios, boys!”

“Hey, it’s movie night tonight. Don’t be late!” Steve calls after him.

“Aye, Cap’n! And by the way, I know you ordered ginger root. I know exactly what you’re doing with it, too.”

Bucky looks at Steve, eyebrows furrowed, wondering what the hell that could possibly be about. Steve’s blushing furiously, which means he’s up to no good. Bucky just wonders if it’s the _good_ kind of _no good_. Judging by Stark’s smirk, it is.

“Should I know what that means?” he asks Steve when Tony’s gone.

“Um. Well, if you don’t yet, you will soon.”

“Steve, you’re blushing. I mean, you do that a lot, yeah, but you’re like, beet red right now. Must be something special.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “It kind of is. Now get your ass in the shower, and no touching.” The commanding tone is back, and Bucky hops to it.

He has a feeling it’s going to be an _excellent_ day.

*************************

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	21. Chapter 21

_ “A special Congressional ethics task force is expected to give recommendations on beta rights next week. Riots continue around the nation, and though progressives’ outcries have significantly calmed since Congress opened deliberations, traditionalists are still out in full force. This will have major implications for the Barnes-Rogers case, and whether or not Captain America will be permitted to retain custody of his beta, James Barnes. No word yet as to how the wind is blowing. Whatever the outcome, we’ll be here to report on it. Casey Jones, Channel 5 news.” _

Steve scowls at the television, but he’s happy that Bucky isn’t around to hear what they’ve been saying about the case. Everyone still seems to have an opinion. He often feels like the public is discussing dinner options instead of debating about the lives of real people. The most disheartening thing is the number of submissives who remain traditionalist and want to be kept in this semi-indentured state. But at least Hill thinks that they have a good chance to get at least some of the laws changed, and if anyone would have solid intel on what’s happening behind closed doors, it’s her. 

He turns it off, knowing that hearing any more about it will only drive him crazy. Besides, he’s got some planning to do.

By the time Bucky gets back from his… whatever he and Tony do together, Steve is raring to go. He feels like a bitch in heat now that he’s gotten his submissive back. Bucky can see the look in his eyes the instant he walks into the room. His pupils immediately turn black, eyes already glazed over as he goes to his knees in front of Steve. 

Steve cups Bucky’s chin and tilts his head up, leaning down for a gentle kiss. “There’s my baby,” he murmurs. “All ready to serve his dom. So perfect and all _ mine _ .” He emphasizes it by grabbing Bucky’s hair and yanking his head back and to the side, watching his submissive’s eyes track him through the haze. 

“Unghhh,” Bucky says.

Steve chuckles. “My thoughts exactly. I’ve got some new stuff for you today, baby. You’re gonna love it.”

“Oh?” Bucky breathes.

“Yep. C’mon. Follow me.”

Steve hears Bucky scrambling to match his long strides as he walks toward their bedroom. He’s eager to get the show started - it’s been too long, and Bucky’s all healed from his brush with death in prison. Steve’s trusting his word that he’s mentally healed, as well, but he needs this too much to hold back in any case. He’s a fiend for it just as much as Bucky is.

Steve sits on the bed and drags his track pants down to his thighs, just enough to expose his rapidly hardening cock and nothing more. Then he looks at Bucky expectantly.

Bucky knows what to do. He quickly removes his clothing; they both love it when Bucky is naked and Steve is fully clothed. Steve’s considering making it a rule that Bucky should always be naked in their suite, but that’s for another day. For now, he’s got some pain to dish out. Pain that he hopes his submissive enjoys. 

Though, to be fair, Bucky enjoys everything Steve does to him simply because it’s  _ Steve _ . 

Whenever Bucky is exposed to him like this, Steve gets fully hard within seconds, and this time is no exception. He groans with the need to feel Bucky’s hands, his lips, his most intimate places caressing his cock. 

“Suck me,” Steve says in a gruff voice, and _ oh god _ does he. 

James Buchanan Barnes was made to suck dick. He knows when to hollow his cheeks, when to use his tongue to tease and to please, when to open his throat and swallow or just take it. Steve fucks his face and it’s like a dance, one with a partner he’s known for years, even though their relationship is less than a year old. Bucky gags a little when Steve starts to go rougher, and that only makes it better as he forces himself to take every inch of Steve’s cock. 

Steve had come just a day ago, but it doesn’t take him long to blow. Bucky sucks it down like mana from the gods, capturing every drop with his talented lips. By the time it’s done, Steve is breathing heavily and feels utterly spent, meaning it’s time to lavish some attention on Bucky. Which is not a hardship in any way, shape, or form.

He pulls Bucky up to sit in his lap, and revels in the feeling of having him so close, so intimate, after far too long without. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips. 

He feels the world tilt on its axis as Bucky obliges, starting slow and leading Steve, waiting until Steve is squirming underneath him before gently biting his lower lip, asking for permission. Steve opens his mouth and lets Bucky explore like they’ve never done this before. For them, though, every time is like the first time. 

_ Like soulmates _ , Steve thinks, then laughs under his breath. What a fancy thought that is.

Bucky pulls back a little. “What?”

“Nothing. Just being sappy. You wouldn’t like it.”

Bucky eyes him skeptically. They both know he would like it, but Steve is still keeping it to himself. No need to give Bucky more ammunition for teasing him. Though he’d certainly deserve it, as much as he teases back - both in and out of their bedroom. 

Bucky just shakes his head and continues kissing Steve, starting to rub his still-hard cock against Steve’s soft one. He’s slightly oversensitive, but he lets Bucky play because what he has planned isn’t going to be easy on him.

When Steve has had enough, he grabs Bucky’s hair again and pulls his head back. Bucky looks drunk on it. 

“Lay back on the bed. Hands above your head. I’m gonna put a blindfold on you. Is that okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky whispers.

“Good.”

They set up, Steve tying Bucky to the bed and then admiring his handiwork while Bucky squirms, unable to see what’s going on. Bucky bites his lip in anticipation and suddenly Steve is ready to go again. 

“All right, I’ve gotta go get something now. I’ll be right back, and just down the hallway if you need me.”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky says, and Steve hurries from the room. 

He doesn’t like leaving his submissive alone that long, not in a state like this, mostly because he knows how panicked he’d probably feel in the same position. Of course, he’s not Bucky, and not exactly partial to the same things. Still - he doesn’t like doing things to other people that he hasn’t at least tried himself. 

Exhibit A: ginger root. What an interesting experience that had been.

And by interesting, Steve means  _ hot _ . In several different ways.

He grabs it from the crisper and takes a cup of ice along for good measure. Part of him feels like an evil genius, and he knows this is going to be a hell of a lot of fun for both of them.

Steve sets the cup down on the nightstand next to the bed, gently so as avoid having the ice cubes clink against the glass. He doesn’t want to give away this devious little plan.

“I’m back, baby.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“I know, but I didn’t want to leave you for too long. You know me.”

Bucky’s lip curls upward just a little. “Yeah. Overprotective.”

Steve smiles down at him, not that Bucky can see it. “Damn straight.” He watches as Bucky licks his bottom lip again.

“So what do you have for me that’s so exciting?”

“You’ll see,” Steve says with a low chuckle. 

He situates himself over Bucky’s head and turns around so that he’s facing Bucky’s body, which is spread out before him like a feast. 

“Here’s the deal: you get your tongue in me, eat me out like you mean it, and if you get through my little surprise without losing any of that lovely enthusiasm I know you’ll bring to it, I’ll let you come. After I’ve gotten off at least once more, of course.” 

Bucky groans. His hips lift from the bed of their own free will. Steve pets him, gently rubbing his chest, shoulders, down his sides. Calming him. 

“If you remove your tongue from my body for more than a few seconds, you don’t get to come today. Got it?”

“Fuck,” Bucky hisses. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s right. Now get busy.”

He sits on Bucky’s face, just high enough that Bucky can breathe freely if he pulls back a bit, and lets out a filthy moan as his submissive gets to work. Bucky’s just as amazing at this as he is at sucking cock, starting with Steve’s crack, avoiding his hole and working his tongue all around his perineum as well. Steve just lets himself enjoy it for a few minutes, loving the tease and planning his payback.

Then he gets to work. He carefully leans forward, keeping his ass in Bucky’s face, and rubs the ginger root up and down Bucky’s hard cock. He knows it burns a little bit already, but it’s nowhere near as intense as it will be. Bucky’s moaning underneath him, that voice and that tongue sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body. Bucky writhes as Steve slides the root along his skin, down to his perineum and around his hole. That’s when he really starts to take notice.

“Oh,  _ fuck _ , Steve… what is that?” he whispers. 

“Hmm, I wonder. And shouldn’t you be too busy to talk?”

Bucky’s tongue gets back to work doing what it’s supposed to be doing. 

“Alright, Buck. I’m gonna rock your world now,” Steve tells him, voice deep and rumbling and absolutely wrecked. “Remember, I’m in control right now. Relax and let it happen.”

“Steve, I’m not new to this _ sssss holy shit _ ! What? _ What _ ?”

Steve smirks, pure evil written on his face as Bucky discovers the wonders of figging. “What’d I tell you about keeping your face buried in there?”

Bucky breathes deeply, forcing himself to relax as Steve moves the ginger in and out, thrusting shallowly so as not to completely overwhelm him. Then Bucky gets back to work with renewed vigor, flicking his tongue forcefully and pointing it to enter Steve. It’s the sexiest version of sixty-nine that Steve has ever done. He feels Bucky’s breath against his hole, up his crack, hot and fast, hears Bucky’s loud moans and commits this moment to memory. He’s impossibly close to coming again from those sensations alone. 

It seems Bucky is, too, which shouldn’t surprise Steve, given what they managed to do at their joke of an assessment. He removes the ginger and gives Bucky a few moments to breathe, though he doesn’t dismount his face. Instead, he reaches for a piece of ice and sucks on it, taking a moment to continue enjoying the sensation of Bucky’s tongue inside of him. 

After a few minutes, he bends back over and slides the ginger root back into Bucky, reveling in the hot, wild breath once again caressing his hole. Then he slides it out and immediately replaces the burning sensation with the ice cube. 

Bucky  _ howls _ . 

He can’t keep his mouth on Steve, but that’s okay, because Steve can’t stop himself, either. He makes noises he didn’t even know he was capable of as he grabs his cock, strokes it one-two-three times and goes off like a rocket, shooting semen all over Bucky’s body. Some even lands on his cock, and Steve greedily laps it up as Bucky wriggles and writhes underneath him. 

“Steve… St… please… oh god oh fuck I’m gonna come… stop, you have to stop…”

“No. Come for me, Buck. Give it up to me. Let go.”

Bucky’s gone before half of the words are out of his mouth. He cries out as he shoots all over Steve, returning the favor. There’s so much come, Steve can hardly believe it.

He finally climbs off of Bucky’s face and reaches up to run fingers through his hair. He lies down next to him and pulls him in close, removing the blindfold and ties while he’s at it. Fuck, Bucky looks all fucked-out and  _ beautiful. _

“Jesus Christ, Buck,” he murmurs. “Look at you.”

Bucky’s still floating and doesn’t reply; that’s just fine by Steve. He snuggles for a few minutes before cleaning off the both of them and throwing away the ginger root. That was ‘hot as fuck,’ as the kids these days (and Bucky) say. This definitely goes into their repertoire.

It feels so damn good to fall asleep wrapped around Bucky that he sleeps straight through his morning run. The Avengers give him knowing looks at their movie night later on, but it’s alright; he’s got his Bucky back, and that’s all that matters. Hell, Steve spends most of the movie staring at Bucky or kissing his temple or running a soothing hand up and down his back, despite the fact that the movie is one of the ‘classics’ that his friends insist he needs to see. 

Tony approaches him after the movie with a smirk on his face. 

“So, did you use the ginger root? ‘Cause I gotta say, that’s rough stuff. I wasn’t able to hang in there for it, sad to say. And you know Tony Stark never backs down from a fight.”

Steve turns scarlet, and Bucky kisses his nose. 

“Yeah, we did. And I didn’t wuss out like  _ some _ people.” Bucky sticks his tongue out at Tony, whose jaw drops.

“You little shit,” he says, floored.

“Ooh, now you’ll have to challenge yourself, right? Can’t let the super soldiers outdo Tony Stark. Nope.”

Tony sighs dramatically. “Why did I ever befriend you? You’re like three times the pain in the ass as Rogers, and that guy, I swear…”

“You know I’m right here, Tony,” Steve says in a stern voice, and Stark immediately backs down. 

Now that he’s been let into the man’s circle, Steve can see Tony’s inner submissive. He’s not sure how he missed it before, except for Tony’s blustering. He’s undoubtedly got a lot of internalized issues surrounding it, but they’re none of Steve’s business. He’s just proud that Bucky calls Tony a friend and gives Tony an outlet for those kinds of uncomfortable discussions. As a dom, Steve would never quite understand it.

“We’re off to bed, Tony,” Steve finally says. “It’s late.”

“Oh yeah, I guess you’re right. Because, you know, we did a lot of stuff today. Lyin’ around, hangin’ out…”

“I  _ will _ tell the other Avengers about your little hot tub secret,” Steve hisses, and now it’s Tony’s turn to blush.

“You wouldn’t!”

“I would. We’ve got plenty of time to chat, barring a world catastrophe. Right now, though, I want to get my sub on his knees and my cock in his mouth. Got it?”

Tony stares at him like he’s grown two heads. “You talk like this?” He turns to Bucky. “Does he actually talk like this?”

“Buddy, you got no idea,” Bucky replies with a smirk.

“Okay, okay, I’ll let you go. Jesus, Rogers. I really had no idea. Have no idea, apparently.”

“Tony. Call me Steve. Please?”

Tony considers him for a moment before acquiescing. “Alright. ‘Steve’ it is, then.”

Steve leaves the party wearing a huge smile. It’s almost like he’s won a battle. 

 

Two months later, they get the subpoena. Depending upon Congress’ recommendation, Bucky may end up back in prison and on trial, most likely out of Steve’s hands for good. But if the ethics committee decides to review betas’ and submissives’ rights, he’ll come home with Steve. Thanks to the huge public outcry, never has a committee ruling had such a huge effect on one single court case. 

Bucky’s eyes are wild and he’s hyperventilating, making himself sick. Steve does his best to get him to relax, even though on the inside he’s quivering himself. Maria hasn’t heard anything from her sources since Bucky was remanded into his custody, and it makes Steve horribly nervous. What if Hydra’s still in there, like a weed that’s too deeply rooted? The investigation into Hydra’s role in government is still ongoing, and probably will be for years, even though several members of the upper echelons have been taken down already. It’s still possible that Hydra could fuck them over.

Not that Steve’ll let them. His shield and pack are ready; so is the team, who have all planned to provide a distraction so that Steve can take Bucky and run. If this goes poorly, he knows he’ll never see his submissive again unless he takes immediate action. He still has enough faith in his government to get them out of this mess before it comes to that, though. 

Bucky is another story entirely. He’s convinced they’ll put him away, and has no knowledge of Steve’s plan. It’d been a hell of an argument, but Stark had finally gotten it through Steve’s thick head: in order to whip up more crowd support, the press has to see the devastation on Bucky’s face if worse comes to worst. 

Yeah, that’d been a fight to remember. Steve had come home to Bucky with a black eye and a split lip, spitting mad, and Bucky, bless the man, had coaxed him into the bath and taken care of him without even asking what had happened. 

Just another reason why Steve can’t lose him. He  _ won’t _ .

The courtroom is packed, with everyone tuned in to the proceedings on the Hill. Steve holds Bucky’s hand tightly, not caring what anyone thinks. Hell, he wants them to notice, wants them to care, wants them to think that maybe the whole ‘beta’ thing had been ridiculous from the get-go. He wants the two of them to be Exhibit A for why you can’t treat people like chattel. 

Senator Chaplain, who Steve’d never particularly liked, steps up to the podium and begins his speech. It’s long and winding and somewhat self-serving, and Steve grits his teeth in frustration. It almost feels like the asshole is dragging this out as long as he can just for kicks. He knows - the entire world knows - that Steve and Bucky are watching, that the judge is awaiting their recommendation to make up his own mind. There’s no doubt that, between the traditionalists and the progressives, there’ll be both partying and rioting in the streets tonight. And there are far too many people living ‘underground’ with Sam’s folks that are crossing their fingers just like he and his own submissive are doing. 

The truth is, they have no idea how far-reaching this ruling could be. Undoubtedly, someone will challenge it and it will end up in the Supreme Court. But in the meantime, it’ll shape the lives of many, and Chaplain’s next words will likely decide how things play out in this courtroom. Steve prays it goes their way, not just for himself and Bucky, but for all those people, for all the submissives and ‘betas’ now and in the future.

Finally, Chaplain gets to the meat of it. 

“We on the Ethics Committee have heard from experts in many fields with regard to our assessment system and questions concerning its consequences for our society. We have unanimously decided that depriving betas and submissives of their rights to self-determination is unconstitutional, and are moving forward with a motion to repeal and replace the 1982 law removing these constitutional rights.”

Bucky sags forward, head between his knees. Steve gathers him up into his arms and cries right there with him on the courtroom floor. Of course, this doesn’t mean all the damage done in the last thirty years has magically vanished; there’ll be a lot of discrimination and head-butting and the usual issues that come along with social change. But it’s a huge step, and most importantly, Steve and Bucky can be together. Bucky will likely be able to legally join the Avengers. And millions all over the country will be able to live their lives the way they want without fear of repercussion, able to leave and enter into any relationship they please.

This is the kind of justice Steve Rogers lives and breathes for. 

Then the judge dismisses their case entirely, and the crowd inside the courtroom cheers.

“So we can go home?” Bucky whispers through his tears. “Just be us?”

“We can go home,” he confirms, pulling Bucky close and kissing him on the temple. 

It takes hours for Bucky’s official freedom to be processed, but they make it out of there just as the sun is going down. Bucky wants to go straight home, of course, but Steve has another idea. 

“Let’s go walk the Mall.”

His submissive whines. “Now? Why, Steve? Aren’t you exhausted?”

He smiles, and Bucky gives him an annoyed look. “Of course I’m exhausted. But this is a big win, and I bet people want to see us. We’re superheroes, remember?”

“Oh no, not one of your speeches,” Bucky groans.

“Well, if you don’t wanna hear it, you’ll just have to come out and walk with me then, won’t you.”

“Can we do the ginger again later if I agree to do it?”

Steve stops in his tracks and shakes his head, laughing. “We can do anything you want when we get home. Let’s just take a victory lap first, shall we?”

“Yes, sir,” Bucky replies, clinging to his arm. “Lead the way.”

“I always do,” Steve quips.

The Mall is packed, unsurprisingly, and they have quite the following before they’ve even made it to the Mall proper. Steve holds on to Bucky tightly, showing the world in no uncertain terms that he belongs to him in the way that a man should belong to his dom, as a human being first and foremost. There are very few dissenters. Most people cheer them. 

Steve doesn’t stop his trip ‘round the Mall until he’s on the steps of the Capitol Building itself. The setting sun shines into Bucky’s eyes, those eyes so much like still water, like an ocean of compassion and desire and love, and Steve can’t help but stare, mesmerized. It’s stunning, the entire moment, and it’s _ right _ . 

He drops to one knee and pulls the ring out of his pocket. Bucky already wears his collar, which is far more important and symbolic for their relationship, but this is legal ground they’re treading. It’s possible that beta submissives will be allowed to marry their doms; regular submissives almost definitely will. But he’s not done making a statement, and this is the best way to do it. 

Bucky stares at him, frozen in time and in the light of the falling sun, and it’s perfect. 

_ It’s perfect _ . 

“Bucky Barnes, I love you with all my heart and soul. You are my best friend, my lover, my submissive, my equal. Please tell me that you’ll marry me.”

He hears the clicking of cameras, the beeping of recording devices. They’re paying attention. 

For a brief moment, Steve wonders if putting Bucky on the spot like this is a betrayal, something he can’t handle - maybe he should’ve asked first… But no, Bucky is finally moving, finally coming to rest on his knees in front of his dom and crying more tears of joy. 

“Yes, yes, yes. Steve, I’ll be your husband. As long as you’ll have me.”

They embrace and Steve kisses the tears from Bucky’s face. Then he helps him stand up and wraps his arms around him, standing defiantly in front of the citizens, the press, everyone who has come to see what the hassle is about. 

This is why they made him Captain America. Not to be the inspirational foundation of Shield. Not to put down the Valkyrie and kill Red Skull in the process. 

No. 

This moment right here is why he first stepped forward, why he still fights. It’s not for glory, not for wars that men wage against each other, not even for fighting aliens and demons here on Earth. Put a hundred Tony Starks in suits and you’ve got a fighting force far stronger than what Steve Rogers can lead. 

No. This is _ justice _ . This  _ matters _ . And as he carries Bucky bridal-style across the lawn and into the limo waiting for them on Independence Avenue, he knows that despite Hydra and all the other evils in the world, he can continue being Captain America, because the America he fought for is still here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! The end of my shrunkyclunks big bang! 
> 
> This was a wild ride. It started off with me saying "Cool, I'm gonna write 10,000 words of PWP and call it a day," and then suddenly it grew a plot and ran away and I had to just like, chase after it yelling and screaming. This thing was my baby for a month and a half or so, and it was such a pleasure to write these two, I can't even describe it. 
> 
> Thank you to all of those who came along with me on this wild ride! The comments and kudos, subscriptions and bookmarks have meant so much to me, and I'm glad that you've enjoyed it. Feel free to leave me a line or see my profile for my tumblr link. 
> 
> Adios, all!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoy!


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